Sweet Potato Sunset
by Midori Cha
Summary: Susie visits her orphaned cousins in Tulsa during the summer of 1966. She meets rogue and charmer Dallas Winston, befriends his fiery girlfriend Sylvia, and through their drama-plagued relationship, and Two-Bit Mathews' dry wit, she learns about romantic life on the East Side.
1. New Girl in Town – Meet the Whole Gang

_Sweet Potato Sunset_

**Summary:** Susie visits her newly orphaned cousins in Tulsa, during the summer of 1966. She meets rogue and charmer Dallas Winston, and through him learns about the Soc/greaser rivalry. Will include romance, unless Dallas worms his way out of it somehow. Rated for language. OFC POV.

**A/N:** This is just something I thought I would try just to see if I could do it. I'm not at all sure I can, or if I'll continue, but the Internet is lovely and anonymous anyway … sort of. If you have the time and the desire, I'd appreciate you letting me know what you think. All comments and criticisms are welcome!

**Disclaimer:** "The Outsiders" was written by Susan Eloise Hinton, who owns all you see here, and pnz it as well. I only own Susan. The character. Not the author. Bobby Heath and Charley O'Donnell wrote the song "Pony Boy" in 1909.

xxxx

**Chapter 1: New Girl in Town – Meet the Whole Gang**

xxxx

It'd been only six years since I'd last been in Tulsa, but I'd forgotten how damn hot it could get.

I'd been wary about coming to see my cousins by my lonesome. Me in a house with three boys and no grown-ups? If I was gonna eat at all this summer it was going to be my own cooking, and with heat like this, I wasn't looking forward to it.

I pulled my long blonde hair up and tried to fan the sweat off my neck. My momma always liked me to grow it long, so it hung down almost to my waist. It was always getting tangled, and the fashion was getting shorter and shorter, but Momma liked to practice her styles on me, and she said long hair was like a huge canvas where anything was possible.

I looked around the station; my train had been a little late, but I knew my ride would have waited for me, if only I could find him. I hadn't seen Cousin Darry since he was fourteen and a scrawny little quarterback hopeful. So, it took me awhile to realize who that the tall, muscled man making his way toward me was. He looked tired and drawn, not like I remembered him being, but then, I guess he'd been through a lot this year. It'd be enough to make anyone more serious.

"Susan?" he asked, holding his hand out solemnly.

"What's this, Darry?" I teased, pushing away his hand. "We're family ain't we?" I gave him a big hug, while he stood there like a pole. The last time I'd seen him, Darry hadn't cared much for hugs either, although, I suppose most teenage boys don't.

He gave me a big smile when I stepped back though, said it was good to see me and offered to carry my bag.

"With those muscles, you had better," I told him.

He threw my bag into the back of an old Ford I recognized as belonging to his dad. He looked more like the uncle I remembered from six years ago, and less like the cousin, so I didn't think nothing of seeing him slide into the driver's seat. Till I remembered I wouldn't be seeing Uncle Darry at all.

"How are things?" I asked, trying to put it out of my mind.

"Not bad," Darry grunted, coaxing the protesting car into gear. "We seen better times, but then we seen worse, too." He looked at me sideways. "We ain't livin' like kings though, I won't lie. Space is awful scarce."

"I could stay at a motel," I offered, falteringly.

He shook his head, and turned onto the street. "Nah, we fixed up my old room for you. Soda's aiming on moving in there after, anyway, but he's happy bunking with Ponyboy for awhile."

"Where are you sleeping?"

He coughed, and the tips of his ears went red. "In Mom and Dad's old room," he mumbled.

We drove awhile in silence, both of us feeling bad, and both of us missing Uncle Darry and Aunt Jennie.

Me and Momma had moved away four years past and hadn't been back since, but from my first memory to then she'd been so close to Aunt Jennie, you'd have thought they were sisters, instead of her and Uncle Darry being related. We'd hung around their house plenty, and they'd hung around ours just as much.

"How's Aunt Sue … you still going by Susan?" Darry interrupted himself. "Or is it Mary, now?"

My name is Mary Susan Shipman. My momma named me as normal as she could, because she said after my eldest cousin Darrel Jr. was born, Uncle Darry had gone and ruined her opinion on original names.

I have a cousin named Sodapop, Darry's younger brother, and my momma says that it's because there'd been a time while Aunt Jennie was pregnant with him when she was so nauseous that soda pop and soda crackers was all she could keep down. He named my youngest cousin Ponyboy after a children's song Aunt Jennie sang to put him to sleep that went like this:

_Pony Boy, Pony Boy, won't you be my Tony Boy?_

_Don't say no. Here we go off across the plains._

_Marry me, carry me right away with you._

_Giddy up, giddy up, giddy up, whoa! My Pony Boy._

Uncle Darry claimed he was being creative, so Momma said she could be just as creative and pick a decent name while at it. She named me Mary, because she birthed me backwards and she said she'd never shouted at Mary so bad before in her life, and felt the need to make it up to her afterwards. And she named me Susan, after her, because she said only the wisest women could carry off that name.

A day in the library taught me that Susan was the patron saint of innocence and saviour from infamy and reproach.

Nice try, momma. You keep on hoping for that innocence.

"Momma's just fine, and it's still Susie," I told Darry.

"Susie, Susie, quite contrary," Darry said, suddenly, and gave me a sly grin.

I made a face, but relaxed and laughed with him. When Sodapop had been eight years old, he'd found out my first name was Mary and sung that song until I screamed at him. Aunt Jennie told him my name was Susie, and if he'd called me Mary another time, she'd box his ears. So, Sodapop sang the version Darry reminded me of.

Sodapop always had been a little brat.

"How is old RC Cola anyway?" I asked, getting another laugh from Darry.

"_Ratty Chicken_ is just fine," he said. "And you keep your mouth shut about who really came up with that nickname."

"What, ain't you proud? He deserved it."

Darry shook his head. "He's long since grown from that bratty stage, Susie. You'll like him now, everybody does."

I scowled. "He used to pull my hair, you know."

He nodded, amused. "And you pulled his right back."

I shook my head. "You'll always be my favourite cuz," I drawled, only half-kidding. Sodapop was my age almost exactly, and had been a terror of pranks and bratty jokes and excess energy the entire time I'd known him. Pony had always been a little moody and clingy, but Darry had always been nice to me, comforting me when Soda pulled his tricks and even tutoring me in math once.

Darry raised an eyebrow. "What an honour."

"On that note," I said, reaching into my bag. "I've got a present for you from Momma."

I held out the envelope to him, and was about to tell him just how much was in it, when I noticed a muscle in his jaw twitching.

"That's okay," he mumbled. "You keep it."

I shook my head. "Momma's orders. She said she was awful sorry she couldn't get here for the funeral, and wanted to make it up some. She said she knows it can't be easy making ends meet now that your folks are-"

"She _knows_, huh."

I stopped talking, hearing the bite in his voice. Darry stared straight ahead through the glass, not looking at me. I guess he felt bad for snapping though, because his voice was a little gentler, but firm, when he next spoke:

"We don't need the money."

Most boys from east side Tulsa are stubborn as hell when it comes to their pride. It's the one thing they've got plenty of. I knew it'd do no good to argue with Darry, so I put the money away, making a note to myself to find some way of foisting it on him. Maybe Sodapop would come in handy after all.

xxxx

The Curtis house looked a lot smaller than I remembered it being.

Darry slowed the truck and I tried not to let the surprise show on my face. They were letting me stay, and I didn't want to be ungrateful.

"Suuuuuuusie!"

I'd barely gotten out of the door of the truck when I was whisked off my feet and thrown through the air like a sack of flour.

"Put me down! Soda Curtis!" I yelled.

"The one and only," Soda said, beaming.

I had to take a step back when I first saw him. I'd never thought of Sodapop as handsome before, but when I'd left we'd both been only ten. He was sixteen now, and more good-looking than all the boys in Wyoming put together.

"Glory, Sodapop, who'd you steal those good looks from?"

He shook his head and gave me that crazy grin. "I guess it was you, judging from your looks."

"And you ain't changed one bit," I said, irritably.

I aimed a punch at him and he toppled over on the grass, yelping in pretend pain.

"Soda, get off the ground and show your cousin some manners, will ya?" Darry hollered, jogging up the steps. "Ponyboy! Where the heck … probably reading or dreaming or … PONYBOY!"

"This boy ain't got no manners, Darry," I said, and stuck my tongue out at Soda.

"I'm a changed man, I swear!" He rolled over on the grass and propped himself up. "Susie, it's been too long. You don't know how much I missed you."

Looking at his big brown eyes, I almost sat down on the grass right beside him like we were ten again, and plotting how to flush the toilet while Darry showered. But, I caught myself in time.

"Well, I didn't miss you," I said, moodily. "All them pranks, and tricks, and jokes …"

"Aw, Susie, you know I was only teasing." Soda rolled to his feet and gave me a sheepish smile. "Only, you had the misfortune of knowing me when I was a kid. I'm all grown up, Susie, you'll see." He smiled at me, a nice, warm, normal, non-pranking smile.

"I'm keeping my eye on you," I said, just to be sure. But, I hugged him, just to be polite. He was my cousin, after all.

"He ain't into pranking no more. He's only into _girls_." Ponyboy's voice swooped up the octave for girls, and he blushed and cleared his throat.

"Ponyboy," I said, warmly. "You're all grown up!"

"Hey," Soda said, indignantly. "How come you're all nice to Pony off the bat, and you give me the hairy eyeball, huh?"

"She was nice to me, too," Darry said, mildly.

"Neither Darry nor Ponyboy ever put gum in my hair," I shot back.

Soda folded his arms across the chest. "Yeah, well I seem to remember you putting ice in my pants."

I couldn't help laugh. He looked like a little kid again, pouting.

"Alright, Sodapop," I said, putting both hands on my waist. "You gonna have to prove you've been good, and then maybe I'll trust you again. Understood?"

"Understood." Soda's mouth twitched. "And likewise."

xxxx

"This is your room." Darry glanced at me quickly. "It ain't much."

"It's wonderful," I said, then stepped into it. It was smaller than a pickle barrel, and smelled about as good.

Soda stepped in after me. "If you're wondering what that smell is, it's Darrel's socks," he said, under his breath.

"Or Soda's cooking," Darry said, dryly.

"Or, it's the paint that Darry put on the walls last night to make it look better." Ponyboy flipped on the light switch, showing the gleaming, clean white walls.

"Thank you," I said, polite as possible while still holding my breath. "It looks lovely. You didn't have to trouble yourself."

Darry shrugged, looking embarrassed. "No trouble."

We trooped back to the kitchen, which smelled a lot better on account of the chicken Soda was roasting.

"Your refrigerator door is open," I said, hurrying to close it.

"Hey!" yelped a voice.

I screamed and leapt back, as a rusty-haired man backed out of the refrigerator, rubbing his head.

"About took my head clear off," he said, ruefully. Then he brightened. "Are you the new Curtis?"

"In a manner of speaking," I said, haltingly. I'd be cautious of any strange man popping up out of my refrigerator, but none of my cousins looked worried.

He smiled slowly, his grey eyes twinkling. "Well, now I recognize you. Only took me a minute, cause you're so pretty now."

I blushed. A stranger he might be, but a compliment's a compliment's a compliment.

"You used to be a scrawny little rug rat."

My cousins laughed. I planted my fists on my waist and glared at him. "Who are you to say something like that?"

"Don't you recognize him, Susie?" Soda said, surprised.

I paused, and looked back at the man. He did look awfully familiar, but he was older, maybe as old as Darry. I'd known my cousins friends; we'd all grown up together. But, I'd spent more time with their sisters, and in any case, the last I'd seen of any of them they'd been kids.

The redhead grinned. "I'm Steve Randle. You don't recognize me?"

I couldn't help staring. "Steve … Randle? Now, you don't look a thing like you used to."

"Two-Bit," Darry said, tiredly.

I looked at him in confusion. "'Two-Bit'? What's that mean?"

The redhead doubled over laughing. "Well, honey, I think he means me, but I don't know why. I'm Steve Randle."

"No, I'm Steve Randle," said an irritable voice, and another boy poked his head in through the screen door.

"No smoking in here, Steve," Soda called out. "Ruin all the nice smells I got coming off of this bird."

I looked around me and started to feel nervous. They were all nice boys … but, glory, what girl wouldn't feel a little out of sorts with five other boys and no girls in the room? And who knew how many more were hiding in the backyard?

"Hey, Susie, long time no see," said the new boy's head. "I'm the real Steve."

"Naw, it's me!"

"It's not," I said. "He's Steve." I pointed at the new boy. "You're Keith Mathews."

The redhead looked mildly surprised.

"Fucking bullshit!"

I leapt about a foot in the air. I won't pretend I'd never heard language like that before. I was well acquainted, growing up in the neighbourhood that I had. But, that didn't mean I liked it all that much.

"Dal-"

"No, it's fucking horseshit, Johnny. I ain't been nowhere near his fucking piece of shit car, I don't care what that whore fucking slut of his tells him, that son-of-a-bitch."

Dallas Winston stepped into the kitchen and I about died.

I remembered making fun of his hair with Sodapop when we were real young, calling him "tow-head" until he'd loosed one of Soda's baby teeth. It hadn't changed since then, only got a little longer, and it shone even in the under lit kitchen. He was pale, and skinny and every bit as tough as he'd been seven years ago. Only now he wasn't ten, and I wasn't nine.

I leaned heavily against the counter.

He crossed the kitchen in three quick steps, not noticing the silence, opened the refrigerator and pulled out what looked like a beer. "I oughtta kick his ass from here to fucking hell is what I oughtta – holy shit, who brought the chick?"

I could feel my face get hot almost instantly.

"You remember, Susie, our cousin?" Soda said, quickly.

I guess it was a kind thing to do, but I wished he'd introduced me as Susan instead.

Dallas looked at me, in the same way every boy his age looked at just about every girl but his sister: way up high was too high, way down low was too low, but somewhere in the middle was just right for his eyes.

I folded my arms over the subject of his gaze and he managed to look at my face.

"Sorry," he said and took a sip from his beer, "about the swearin'. I didn't know you were there."

"That's a-okay," I said, and immediately thought what a stupid thing it was to say.

He squinted at me and scratched his head. "Boy, you look different. All … old."

"Thank you," I said, stiffly, feeling a little less nervous. I wanted to tell him he looked exactly the same as that little ten-year-old boy I'd known seven years ago before we'd both gone and left Tulsa, and I was surprised he didn't recognize me. But, did he even remember … ?

He rubbed a hand over his jaw, looking awkward, then frowned. "Well, what's everyone staring at huh? I grow another arm?"

"Sure would come in handy, since I hear Sylvia's gone off you again," Steve said.

Dallas made a face. "She didn't go off me. I went off her." He paused, and then smirked. "And mind your manners around the little lady, huh?"

For some reason, everyone seemed to find this hilarious.

"It ain't you," Keith said, kindly, noticing my look. "It's him. Believe me."

"You seen Johnny?" Dallas said, suddenly. "He was with me a minute ago …"

"Probably took off," Soda said. "'Fraid of girls and all."

"Wise man," Dallas grunted and trudged out the way he came without looking back.

"That's Dallas," Keith said, helpfully. "You'll remember him forever as the guy who could fit more swear words into a sentence than you could fit burgers into this one." He motioned at Soda.

"Or beers into that one," Soda added, motioning back at Keith.

I thought about Dallas' tuff blond hair, and the lean look of him and figured I'd remember something else entirely.


	2. Attack of the soshes

**Chapter 2: Attack of the "soshes"**

xxxx

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the boys, _The Outsiders_, or Tulsa, sadly.

xxxx

When I woke the next morning I was disoriented, and my throat felt dry from inhaling paint fumes all night.

I got up quickly, and stumbled around the darkened room until I found the door. There was no window, and I couldn't remember where the light switch was.

The hallway to the rest of the house was flooded with light from the already warm June morning. There was no sign of life from my cousins' doors, so I gathered up my clothing and toiletries in my arms and crept to the bathroom to get myself ready.

It didn't take me long to shower and dress, but it took me almost ten minutes to pass the comb through my hair. One of these days, I was gonna have to get it cut, no matter what Momma thought. Maybe I'd do it while I was still in Tulsa, without her being able to stop me.

Darry was cooking breakfast when I finally gave up on my hair and went into the kitchen. He gave me a smile and a "good morning".

"Eggs?"

"Sure," I said, uncomfortable with having him serve me. "This is a surprise. That makes twice you boys have done the cooking for me."

He looked at me, his eyebrows raised. "Well, what did you think? We were going to bring you here just to cook for us? We've had six months to practice feeding ourselves. We're pretty good at it now."

I stammered an apology and stared at my hands. I never remembered Darry being so snappish.

He slid a couple of eggs and some toast onto a plate and put it down in front of me, then brought a plate of bacon over. He didn't seem angry, and I relaxed a bit.

"Good thing you're up early," he said. "Gives you first pick of the goods before the jackals get here."

Right on cue, it seemed, I heard a flurry of activity behind me and out dashed Sodapop, still pulling the t-shirt over his head.

"Morning Darry, Susie! Dar – you seen my work shirt?"

I about fell out of my chair. "You _work_?!"

Soda looked at me and grinned. "Of course, I work. Gotta keep the family running, don't I? Worked part-time for more'n a year, and startin' this summer it's full-time."

I shook my head, disbelieving. "Where do you work?"

"I work the customers and repairs at the DX station down on Lawrence. Why, you looking to work this summer, too?"

I had a smart retort all ready, but I bit my tongue when he brought up me working. "A job wouldn't be bad," I said. "Momma said there'd be mighty little to do all by myself during the day, and a job would be a good experience." I didn't add that she'd warned me not to take from them what I didn't have to; I was there to show support and bring good tidings, since she couldn't be here to do it herself, and not just to take up their space and eat their food.

"You always do what your momma tells you to?" Soda said, grinning.

I laughed. "If you had my momma you'd do what she tells you, too. She's always right."

"I'll bet," Soda said, softly.

I could have kicked myself when I saw the pained look on his face. I didn't want to hurt them, but how could I talk about Momma without them thinking about theirs?

The dark moment passed quickly enough though when Soda accepted a plate from Darry. Within two seconds he had inhaled half of its contents. "So how is Aunt Sue, anyway?"

"She's good," I said. "She sends best wishes, and … oh!"

I jumped up, ignoring the surprised look on Soda's face and ran back to my room to retrieve the envelope.

"She sent this, too," I said, thrusting the envelope into his hand. "To help, since she couldn't be here to help you in person."

Soda stared at the envelope in puzzlement for a few seconds, then opened it. His eyes widened, and an oddly closed look came over his face.

He set the envelope down on the tabletop and looked at me. "This is awful nice of you and Aunt Sue," he said, politely. "But, there ain't no way we can accept this. We're doing okay on our own. Me and Darry both work full-time now, and even Pony's doing odd jobs this summer, till he goes back to school. You and Aunt Sue have got your own needs. You keep it."

I stared at him, waiting for the punch line, the take-back, the jokes about me being so gullible. But, he only pushed the envelope back at me and grinned again.

"So, you're looking for work then?"

"Huh," I said, not paying attention. I scooped up the envelope again sadly. I'd been certain Soda would be a sure thing to get rid of it.

"I don't know that you'd be any good at the DX. Not that I'd mind asking for you," Soda added, hastily. "But, even if you was a tomboy when you was young, I wouldn't figure you for a car-repairing type, with those skirts and that hair."

I put a hand to my hair defensively. "Well, what would you figure me as?"

He raised his eyebrows at me. "I figure you as my cousin who I ain't seen hide nor hair of in six years. But, if I was to make a guess of it …"

He sat back and squinted at me, running a hand through his gold-coloured hair.

"I wouldn't say a barmaid, or a barrel racer. I could maybe see you as a waitress."

I made a face at him. "Me? A waitress? Shows how much you know."

He chuckled. "Well, you're welcome to come down to work with me and sit around. There's plenty of girls that'll come around to keep you company. Maybe you'll recognize one of them, who knows?"

xxxx

Darry worked until the evening, and Ponyboy was only thirteen after all, so after breakfast, me and Soda bid a sleepy Ponyboy goodbye and headed out to the truck with Darry.

This day was every bit as hot as the last, and sitting around watching Soda and Steve pump gas and flirt was less entertaining than I'd hoped. By noon, I was hot and grumpy and hungry, hadn't seen any girl I'd recognized and was beginning to regret coming down to Tulsa in the first place. A month of sitting around here was more than I could bear to think about.

Just as I'd made up my mind to introduce myself to the next person who pulled up, just to quell my boredom, Sodapop showed up, carrying a bottle of his namesake.

"You looked awful hot," he said, offering me the coke.

I took it, suspiciously. "What did you do to it?"

Soda gave me a pained expression. "Come on, Susie, I swear I outgrew that practical joke thing years ago."

"Uh-huh," I said, and took a sip. "Well … thank you."

Soda sighed. "You must be bored sitting around here all day. Why don't you take a walk and get some lunch? Me and Steve only get fifteen minutes, or I'd take you …"

"That's okay. Thank you," I said, sincerely this time. "I think I will take a walk."

xxxx

There weren't any interesting places to eat, and I was reluctant to go back to the DX station, so I set out on what would be a long walk around the area.

There wasn't much to look at, and my mind wandered as I walked. So much had changed since I'd last been in Tulsa as a little kid, and not just for me and my cousins.

Steve and Keith had only stuck around until dinnertime, which didn't leave us much time to get reacquainted. But, the little bit I learned was enough to tell me that plenty had changed in the six years since Momma had packed our bags and moved us up to Wyoming.

Keith wasn't Keith anymore, although I suppose 'Two-Bit' fit the bill more than Keith did anyhow. I asked him why Two-Bit and he said he'd found out that Keith meant 'woods' and had thought that Two-Bit rounded out the package quite nicely. He didn't explain, but Darry gave him such a scolding look and Ponyboy's ears turned so red that I was sure it meant something dirty.

I asked him how his family was doing and he said his momma and sister were doing just fine. The way he said it, I knew not to ask about his daddy. But, I made the mistake of asking Steve instead.

He said he assumed his dad was fine, only he hadn't seen him in the last couple days. He didn't say any more and I didn't ask, but he sure glared at the floor hard enough to peel the linoleum.

As a last resort, I'd turned the talk around to senior year – it was all anyone back home could talk about anyway. And Soda wasn't even going to see it, except from the outside …

I was so absorbed in my thoughts, it startled me something awful to hear the car horn blare.

There were four boys sitting inside a convertible, and I didn't recognize a one. I recognized their type though – troublemakers.

It was just too bad that the troublemaking type were always the handsome type as well.

There was a dark-eyed boy sitting in the driver's seat, one arm draped gracefully over the edge of the door and the other resting on the steering wheel with an air of effortless control. He met my gaze and gave me a slow smile, then whistled low.

It took all my strength to keep from bursting into giggles and blushing. Instead I gave him a haughty look and continued on my way. If I met him again I might give him the time of day, but it ain't good practice for any girl to flirt with a stranger, no matter how nice looking. Not to mention, I was walking and he was driving in a relatively rough neighbourhood. My cousins and their friends had nothing on the type of hoods that lived nearby.

But, where on earth would a hoodlum have gotten a car like that?

I heard the sound of a car engine starting, and to my surprise realized that the boys must be following me. I clutched my purse and sped up my walking, starting to feel a touch of nerves.

"Hey there, girlie, out about town?" one of the boys called. "Why you walking so fast, honey?" His tone was too friendly for my liking. I walked faster.

I had to slow when I got to the corner though – I'd been so worried about them that I'd forgotten which direction I was heading. Where was the DX?

The convertible pulled up at the stop sign beside me. I couldn't bring myself to look in their direction.

"Hey _greaser!_"

Greaser?

"Why don't you wash your hair, dirty greaser!"

His tone had lost all of the friendliness when he used that word: "greaser". There were greasers in my high school – boys who wore leather jackets and so much hair oil it looked like they were always fresh outta the bath, rather than dirty. But, surely I didn't look like a greaser?

"We oughtta teach you why you shouldn't go out in public looking like trash."

I gasped and turned, my heart thumping in fear, preparing to see the four boys coming at me. But, to my surprise, they sped right past in their car, not even looking at me.

"Greaser! Greaser!"

I heard swearing and I looked up to see Dallas step out of a doorway and flick his cigarette away. They hadn't been after me at all! They'd been yelling at him all along.

Dallas watched the car, looking wary as it slowed down in front of him. He looked at each of the boys in turn, and I knew he was thinking the same thing I was: there were four of them, and only one of him.

"You're outta your fucking territory," he said roughly. "You ain't allowed over here."

The dark-eyed boy I'd just been admiring smiled, and it wasn't nice. "I'm allowed anywhere I want, greaser."

The car stopped and the boys hopped out. Dallas never took his eyes off them. I don't even think he knew I was standing there, but if he did, he sure didn't seem to care. I would have liked to run away, but I couldn't seem to move. I didn't want to just up and leave Dallas either … I didn't know what to do.

"Hey, greaser. We just want to chat," one of them said, smirking. "Why don't you cool it?"

"Why don't _you_ get back in that pretty car of yours," Dallas said, and before any of us could blink he had a knife in his hand and was pointing it straight at the boy's heart.

I must have gasped because they all looked at me.

Dally looked surprised for a second, but then his mouth tightened. "Get the hell outta here, girl," he warned. "These idiots want to make a mess of themselves, it don't got nothin' to do with you."

"You can't fight all four of them!" I said, before I could stop myself. "It ain't fair!"

Dally's eyes widened in surprise. "Shit, I can fight all four of these clowns twice over without breaking a sweat. Now beat it, Susie."

He turned back to the others, looking almost eager, but they were already backing away into their car.

"No," the dark-eyed boy said, sliding into the driver's seat and looking at me uneasily. "Forget it, grease. This ain't the time. Not in front of the girl."

"We'll find you later," another promised, narrowing his eyes at Dallas. "When your little girlfriend ain't around."

Even though my heart was still pounding, some part of me felt a small thrill at being mistakenly called Dally's girlfriend.

"What the fuck is that?" Dallas yelled, stepping closer to the car. "She ain't got nothing to do with this, you fucking coward!"

He swore at them more, but they only drove off, one of them flipping him off from the backseat. I couldn't understand why he was so upset – they were gone weren't they? He hadn't looked like he really wanted to fight them all when they'd first pulled up but now he was yelling himself blue at them for leaving, like a girl ditched by her boyfriend on the Super Bowl weekend.

Dally watched them go, then he swore under his breath and turned on me. "If you weren't the Curtises' cousin, I'd knock you one upside the head for causin' all that trouble."

"Me!" I cried, shocked. "I didn't do a darn thing!"

He raised his eyebrows at me and lit a cigarette. "No?"

"It was those boys," I said, pointing after them, though their car was long gone. "Those … _awful_ boys."

Dallas took a drag off his cigarette and nodded approvingly. "Got that right. Damn soshes. Getting pushier every day."

I frowned at him, confused. "Who?"

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. His anger seemed to have evaporated. "S-O-S-H-S. Soshes. Short for Socials. You know. The rich f- guys."

"S-O-S-H-S" was short for "Socials"? Dallas didn't seem to have a knack for spelling.

"So, these … Socs?" I started, mentally spelling it. "They're rich … but they're bad?"

Dally flicked his gaze in my direction. "Sure."

"Are they a gang?"

He sighed irritably. "A _gang_? They ain't useful enough to be a gang. Just a bunch of rich yahoos doing … nothing. Ain't you got no sense of right and wrong, girlie?"

We were both quiet for a minute.

"What are you doing here anyway," he said, finally.

"I'm visiting Soda at the DX-"

"This ain't the DX."

"Well, I guess I'm heading there."

He sighed. "You know where you're going? You were headed in the wrong direction."

I knew which direction to take to get back to the DX, but I liked the direction our conversation was heading in better.

"No," I lied. "I guess I'm lost."

He gave me a long look. "Then I guess I'd better walk you back."

I turned to follow him back the way I came, and tried not to look too happy about it.

"Sorry you had to see that mess, anyway," he grunted after awhile, though I could tell he didn't mean it.

"It's okay," I said. "I thought they were after me."

He looked at me in surprise. "Did you?"

Something about the way he was looking at me made me blush. "I guess that's stupid, huh."

"Don't get me wrong, Socs ain't got no manners for anyone but themselves. But, they were hollerin' all the wrong things for being after you."

"They called out 'greaser'," I mused. "But, that ain't right for either of us."

Dally stared at me, and suddenly burst out laughing. "What are you talking about?"

I shrugged. "You don't look like a greaser to me."

"I don't?"

I squinted at him. "Well, for starters, you ain't wearing a leather jacket."

"No kidding. It's hot."

"And you ain't got no sideburns or tattoos …"

"You don't say!"

"Or a motorcycle."

"A motorcycle?"

"Yeah."

"Huh! What …"

I laughed. "Glory, you don't even have any hair oil in your hair. How can you be a greaser if you don't use any grease?"

He shook his head looking amused. "They must not have a lot of greasers in Wyoming. Well, what would you call me then? And no smart-assin'."

I shrugged. "I dunno. A person?"

"That's it?"

"A boy?"

"A _man._ What else?"

I rolled my eyes. You start any boy talking about themselves … "Well, alright. I'd call you a scary-looking …"

"That's more like it."

"… dangerous …"

"Hell, yeah."

"… dirty-talkin' …"

"Well … "

"… tow-headed …"

"Alright, enough," Dallas said, irritably. "Jesus, you sure are a mouthy broad, you know that?"

"But, I wouldn't call you a greaser."

"Well, you're wrong," he said, flatly. He pitched his smoke and lit another, the third I'd seen him smoke in the past five minutes. "I'm a greaser, and it don't got nothing to do with hair oil."

He started walking faster, and I had to skip a little to keep up. "I thought that's what it was all about."

"Only to an outsider."

"So …" I hesitated. "What makes a greaser, then?"

He took the cigarette out of his mouth and pointed it at me like a sword. "You gotta be poor. But, you gotta be proud."

Dallas put the cigarette back in his mouth and sped up again. "You gotta stick up for your buddies," he called back, until I caught up with him. "You gotta never forget where you came from no matter where you end up, and you gotta always know the score."

Dally stopped so suddenly I had turn around and walk back. "And you never, never let no one push you around, not the fuzz, not the Socs … not even a pretty, little, mouthy broad." He raised an arm, pointing ahead. "Here you go, kid. The DX. Next time I catch you making trouble with the Socs, I'll report you to Superman."

I was too dazed to do more than watch him walk away. I had the funny feeling he hadn't been describing a greaser so much as describing himself.

xxxx

A/N: I don't usually update so frequently, but I got bored waiting for Christmas lol. There's a very subtle Matt Dillon/Outsiders movie reference in here, I admit it, lol. Did you find it? P


	3. Party at Buck’s – the Dallymance begins

**Chapter 3: Party at Buck's and the Dallymance begins**

xxxx

A/N: Just something to think about while reading – I'm posting this fic as I'm writing. This means that if I screw up and turn Susan into a Mary-Sue, I can go back a fix it straight away without problems on my end, if you guys start waving some pitchforks in my general direction. Don't be afraid to make the rabid mob of concritters guys! I've already gotten some good comments (thanks!) and changed some things in the second chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own what S.E. Hinton does.

xxxx

Soda's shift ended at six o'clock and we were dripping sweat by then.

We bid Steve goodbye and headed home for dinner; Steve was working till closing time at eleven, and I didn't envy him after having sat there all day with Soda.

"What you up for tonight?" Soda asked, as we set out on the walk home.

I shrugged. "How'm I supposed to know what's going on here?" Sitting all day in the sun had made me irritable.

"True enough," Soda agreed. "Well, alright, how about coming down to see Buck's? Two-Bit's there six-and-a-half days outta seven on account of Buck's loose grasp of the drinking laws, and we could introduce you to anyone we know. Maybe someone'll know about a job opening."

"I guess that'd be okay," I said, slowly.

"Good," Soda said, beaming at me. I couldn't see how he could work so hard and still be so happy all the time, but then again, looking back I couldn't ever remember him crying or whining. He was always singing, or running around, or breaking things.

One time, I remember Aunt Jennie had come home to all her books and things pulled off the shelves and thrown onto the floor. Sodapop had confessed to pulling them all down. He'd been playing horses, he said, and the noise of the books falling in a heap on the floor had sounded like hooves beating, so he'd galloped around the room pulling things off the shelves and neighing.

Aunt Jennie had been laughing when she told Momma the story. Soda always could get away with murder, with those big brown eyes and the squeeze-you-to-death hugs he gave. Aunt Jennie and Momma always believed Soda when he said he never meant to be bad, it just happened by accident.

But, I knew better.

"What's this 'Buck's' place like anyway," I asked, suspiciously.

Sure enough, Soda looked uncomfortable. "Well, it's a bit rowdy, but it's not bad. A lot of rodeo riders go there cuz Buck's in the horse business, and sometimes the kids our age go there cuz there ain't nowhere else that'll serve you. There's some older guys but not by much – heck, Buck himself is only twenty-four."

"So it's a drinking place?"

"Well, now, lotsa girls go there and don't drink," Soda started.

I gave him a look. "And I bet more of them go and do."

He grinned sheepishly. "Well, yeah, only cuz it's a greaser hangout."

"Greaser _girls_?"

"Greasers _and_ greasy girls. Why you look so surprised? Greasers gotta mate just like anyone else."

I rolled my eyes. "That word greaser again! Why am I hearing this from everyone here? Greaser this and greaser that."

"Maybe on account of the fact that we're all greasers?" Soda suggested. "And who are you hearing it from besides me?"

I felt my face go hot and knew my cheeks were turning red. "Ran into Dallas earlier," I said, as casually as I could.

Soda raised his eyebrows and looked at me sideways. I braced myself for a slew of teasing, but he stayed quiet.

"Anyway, you ain't all greasers," I said, eager to change the subject away from Dallas. "You and Darry and Ponyboy-"

"We're greasers," Soda said, surprised. "What did you think we were?"

I stopped walking outright and stared at him then. He stood with his shoulders thrown back and his hands in his back pockets, a bemused expression on his face. He was wearing a button-up, blue work-shirt and jeans and his long hair was mostly combed back except the bits flying about his face. He was dirty and sweaty and dishevelled from the workday but he was grinning friendly at me. Sure he wore some hair-oil, but he could have passed for any mountain rancher kid back in Wyoming. This grinning fool was a greaser?

"Boy, things in Tulsa sure are different," I said, finally.

Sodapop shook his head and grinned some more. "Look, there's five kinds of folk in Tulsa, Susie – the rich kids, the middle class, the greasers, and the hoods."

"That's four."

"Well, girls are something else entirely."

I slapped him on the arm, but couldn't help smiling. It was strangely reassuring to know that the old Soda was still alive, even if he was a pain in the you-know-what.

"Me and Darry and Pony and the gang ain't hoods," Soda said. "We don't earn enough to be middle class and we sure as anything ain't rich. That leaves greasers, don't it? 'Greaser' is just another word for the ones that don't fit into nothing else. The misfits, y'know, the outsiders."

I bit my lip and tried not to think about how Dallas would react if he heard Soda's opinion on what it meant to be a greaser. His and Soda's definitions sure didn't match up.

"You said the rich kids …" I trailed off.

Soda's expression darkened. "Yeah, the Socs."

"How do you spell that?" I asked quickly.

He frowned. "What? Socs? I dunno, ask Pony maybe. The Socs is bad news, Susie."

It seemed Soda and Dallas agreed on what a Soc was at least.

"I ain't saying all the rich kids are, but most of 'em hang out together, cuz their daddies hang out together, and probably their granddaddies did, too. It's like they made this club, and all they ever do when they meet is hate everyone else for not being like them. And all they ever do when they're not together is hate other people in the club for being too much like them."

He shrugged and gave me a little half-smile.

"They just like be miserable, I guess."

I shook my head. "No one likes to be miserable, Soda."

He shrugged again and nodded, but I had the feeling he disagreed.

xxxx

I didn't care what Soda said, Buck's place was there for drinking. There was some dancing, and some worse things too, but it was clear that those things were there only because of the drinking.

We walked to the back where there was a makeshift bar set up, me clinging to Soda nervously. The crowd there looked awful rough, though I knew that didn't mean nothing. Jeans and cowboy hats and country music and beer didn't mean they were all that bad, but it sure was intimidating.

We sat down at the bar and barely had time to order up two beers before Soda had a girl on him.

I'd seen a number of beautiful girls flirting with Soda and Steve down at the gas station; Steve had hinted that Soda pulled in a good number of female customers with his good looks. He didn't mention nothing about himself, but I suspect it was out of modesty. If there were five girls there for Soda, there were at least another couple there for Steve.

There had been girls dressed to the nines down there in expensive skirts and sweaters, with perfectly curled hair and flawless skin. There'd been enough of those to make me glad that Dallas hadn't been there; I knew he wouldn't have given me a second look if those girls had been around him like they had around Soda. Dallas wasn't as good-looking as Sodapop though. I was pretty sure that even if he was looking at them, they wouldn't be looking back.

Sodapop hadn't broken a sweat chatting up even the prettiest of those girls. But, he got tongue-tied just saying hello to this girl at Buck's.

"Sodapop," she said, and even in that one word, she sounded like a queen commanding him to do her bidding.

"Hi – why? What … what are you doing here all alone?" Soda asked. His eyes darted in my direction nervously.

I turned to the girl and realized at once what had Sodapop stuttering.

She had to have been the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. She was dressed simply and elegantly in a pleated skirt and soft grey sweater, and her blonde hair was pulled back from her face tumbling in soft curls and waves around her shoulders in a way that I was instantly jealous of. She had the most striking face I'd ever seen, and she moved her petite body without any of the awkwardness of other girls our age. She had beautiful, bright, blue eyes that had a commanding air and made her look older than a high school student.

I hated her on sight.

She gave me a quick once over and frowned. "New girl, Soda? I thought you were still dating Sandy."

"This is my cousin," Soda said. Me and the girl both looked at him, waiting for a proper introduction, but he only stared at the girl.

"I'm Susan," I said, holding my hand out politely.

She gave me a warm smile. "Cousin, huh? Welcome to Tulsa, girl. Stay away from Buck. He gets grabby when he's been drinking."

She turned back to Soda, losing the warm smile so fast I'm sure my mouth dropped open from shock.

"Where the fuck is Dallas," she said.

My head spun hearing her. I didn't know whether to be shocked that she had sworn so badly, or to be shocked that she mentioned Dallas.

"I dunno," Soda said. He almost looked scared.

She pressed her lips together and moved closer, putting a hand on Soda's chest. "I haven't seen him in days. If he doesn't get here soon, well, shit, I don't know what I'm gonna do."

Soda opened his mouth but all that came out was a kind of wheezing noise.

The girl was so close to him it was almost indecent. "Where do you think he might be, Sodapop?"

"Maybe in the kitchen," said a voice over my shoulder. I jumped and looked over my shoulder, right into Two-Bit Mathews' grey eyes.

The girl raised an eyebrow at him and slipped from the room. The second she was gone, Soda let out a long breath.

"Glad she's gone?" Two-Bit asked, slipping between us and taking a sip from my untouched beer.

"Can't say," Soda said warily.

"She seemed to scare you something awful," I said nastily. "You looked almost as scared as you did happy that she was pressed up against you like a second shirt. And here I thought you had a girlfriend."

Soda looked at me sideways. "Yeah, I have a girlfriend and I love her more'n anything."

"And that's why he's afraid of Sylvia," Two-Bit murmured, so only I could hear.

I scowled. "Sylvia, huh? She didn't seem such a big deal to me. What would a girl like that want with Dallas, anyway? He owe her money or something?"

Two-Bit raised an eyebrow at me. "Or something. What are you doing here anyway? Looking for one of Buck's cowboys? Miss the ranching boys already, Miss Wyoming?"

"Soda said he'd introduce me around, maybe get me a job," I said, glad to be off the topic of the beautiful Sylvia.

Two-Bit laughed. "Can't see you working here, honey. You're too classy for this joint." He winked at me.

I laughed. "Well, by that standard so are you."

He pressed his lips together and cocked an eyebrow. "Boy, it's getting hard to keep my mouth shut around you. You're walking inspiration for a one-liner, kid."

"Gee, thanks," I said, sarcastically.

Sodapop suddenly jumped off his stool. "Shoot, was that Buck? Two-Bit, watch Susie for me a minute. Make sure she don't get herself into no trouble while I'm gone." He pushed through the crowd before either of us could protest.

"He needs a babysitter more than me," I said. "He's the troublemaker."

Two-Bit laughed. "Pretty girl sitting by herself at the bar is gonna attract plenty of trouble without even trying."

"Why's he gone and run off anyway," I said moodily. "He ain't even introduced me to no one. Here I am all alone with no one to talk to-"

"With only an empty pair of boots sittin' next to you," Two-Bit said dryly, hopping up on the stool Soda had left.

I blushed. "I didn't mean it like that."

Two-Bit shrugged. "Naw, I know. You gonna need some real company, some girl or something to talk to."

He sounded casual, but I couldn't help but feel bad. "You're plenty of good company," I said. "Better than Soda, anyway."

Two-Bit laughed. He leaned against the bar and picked at the label on my now half-empty beer bottle. "Well … good."

We sat in awkward silence for a few seconds, both staring at the bar.

"He just wanted to bug Buck about the horses," Two-Bit said suddenly.

"Who?"

"Sodapop." Two-Bit looked at me. "He's horse crazy, you remember? Buck runs a stable, and I reckon all Soda ever sees when he looks at Buck is a horse. Before he got them front teeth of his knocked out, it was all I ever saw too, tell the truth."

I couldn't help laughing. "I didn't know you were so funny."

"Yeah?" Two-Bit raised a hand to his hair but stopped himself before running his fingers through it. It was a good thing too, with all the grease he had put in it. "Well, you ain't heard nothing yet. I'm only getting warmed up, and inspiration just walked in the door."

I glanced at the doorway where a number of rough-looking boys his age or older had come in. They went straight for a filled table in the back, one of them snapping his fingers for a waitress. A man in his early twenties stood over a boy sitting at the table and made a motion with his hands for the other to get up.

"Who are they?"

"Shepard gang," Two-Bit said, and drained the beer. "Always sit at that table."

"But, it's taken."

"Only by idiots."

I watched them apprehensively. "They don't seem all that funny to me. They seem downright scary."

"Shoot, they ain't no more scary than I am," Two-Bit laughed. "They're just pretending. Shoot, even ol' Timothy don't scare me much." He sat up straight. "Hang on, there's His Majesty now."

James Dean walked in the door, shuffling a pack of cards, a lit cigarette in his mouth. He walked over to the occupied chair and sat down without looking anywhere but at the cards, and the boy who'd been sitting there almost broke his back getting out of his way before he was sat on.

"Glory," I breathed. "Who … ?"

"King Sh … Shepard," Two-Bit said, hiding a smile. "Tim."

He said something else, but I wasn't listening. James Dean had propped his feet up on the table, looking sideways so I could only see his profile. The table had emptied as soon as he'd sat, and the group of boys he'd come in with were sitting down.

He looked a little different I suppose; his hair was darker and curlier, and he was skinnier. But he had that same look as Jimmy Dean had as a rebel, and I said so.

Two-Bit laughed a little meanly, but said he guessed I had a point. "But, he's got a cause," he said.

"What's that?"

"He's gotta cause a lot of trouble, that's what. Probably just got outta prison."

A waitress went over to the table, carting a tray of beers. For the first time since he'd gotten there, James Dean looked up and stopped shuffling the cards. He watched the waitress walk all the way back across the room and through another door before he started shuffling them again.

"Definitely fresh outta prison."

I gave Two-Bit a look that said I didn't appreciate that kind of humour.

Two-Bit rolled his eyes. "He ain't such a big deal."

"Sure," I said, idly. If he had really been in prison, it might stop me from flirting, but it wouldn't stop me from looking.

"Listen," Two-Bit said, poking me in the arm. "You're looking for a job, right? My mom works down at a diner during the day. Could take you down there tomorrow and see if they need any help. Said they were hiring for the summer. She even got my sister a job, and I betcha she could get one for you."

"That'd be great!" I said, surprised. I hadn't expected him to be so helpful. "Thanks a million."

He shrugged, but he looked pleased. "No problem."

We sat again in silence for a few seconds, only it wasn't so awkward.

"Wonder where Soda is," I started.

"You want a drink or something?" he asked, at the same time.

"If you're buying, I'll take that."

I turned around again, and almost ran right into Dallas. I put my hand on my stomach feeling nerves fluttering and something else. He wasn't no James Dean, but he was Dallas, the same one I'd known since I was just a kid. Old habits die hard, and those butterflies had been there for a long time.

"Hi," I breathed.

"Hey," he said. "Ain't this place a little rough for you?"

"I don't mind," I said, feeling my cheeks get red. The bar was getting crowded, and Dallas was standing so close I could smell his soap. I didn't mind being at Buck's right then at all. "It's kinda nice. You come here a lot?"

He frowned. "Sometimes. Work for Buck."

"That's great," I said, trying to keep my breathing even. "You ride?"

"Sure," he said, looking around. "Two-Bit, you seen … ?"

"Sure did," Two-Bit said, looking between me and Dallas, his eyes narrowed.

Dally sighed irritably. "Well, is she gonna be happy to see me or not?"

She?

"Hard to say," Two-Bit said, still looking at me.

"Dallas!"

Dally lifted his gaze and took a step away from the bar. His blue eyes darkened and a slow smile spread over his lips.

"Speak of the devil," he murmured, and pulled Sylvia into a deep kiss.


	4. Susie Kicks Ass and Darry Yells

**Chapter 4: Susie Kicks Ass and Darry yells**

xxxx

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Susie Hinton's. Savvy?

A/N: Warning … I update sporadically.

xxxx

I was too shocked not to watch them, but it made me sick the way he held her tightly in his arms, and the way she was clinging to him just as much …

Dally pulled away, smiling at Sylvia.

"That was-"

Sylvia drew back her hand and slapped him so hard he stumbled backwards. Then she turned on her heel and stomped across the room.

"What the fuck?" Dally yelped.

She whirled around, her blonde curls flying. "We are _broken up_, Dallas."

Dally stared at her. It was the first time I could remember ever seeing him so confused. "But, you just-"

"You keep your hands off me!" Sylvia shrieked.

She left, slamming the door behind her, and James Dean fell out of his chair laughing.

"Son of a bitch."

I moved off the stool and Dallas sat down looking a little dazed.

He looked over a Two-Bit. "You think this is one of those times I'm supposed to follow her?"

Two-Bit was red in the face, staring very determinedly at the bar counter. I had the feeling he was trying hard not to laugh.

"Couldn't say," he said haltingly. "Why don't you ask Susie? She's a broad, she oughtta know."

Dally looked at me. "You ain't crazy enough to know the answer."

But, I was.

Sylvia had let him kiss her, and she'd been looking for him all night. Surely she wasn't looking for him just to slap him, make a scene and leave. She wanted him to follow her, and I'd bet all of Momma's money on it.

But, there was no way I was telling _him_ that.

"Why are you dating her, anyway?" I asked instead, trying to sound casual.

Dally raised his eyebrows at me. "Cuz I wanna, that's why."

"His teeth ain't sharp enough to chew his way out," Two-Bit said. "That leash is made outta high quality leather."

"Say that again, Mathews," Dallas said dangerously.

"High quality leather."

Dally leaned forward and grabbed Two-Bit's shirtfront.

"You oughtta follow her!" I blurted out.

He looked at me, frowning. "You think?"

His fist was still wrapped up in Two-Bit's shirt. Two-Bit didn't look all that worried, but he should have. _I_ was worried for him. Dallas looked awful angry.

I nodded quickly. "That's what she's looking for." I put my hand on his arm and he let go of Two-Bit. "You should go, if you want to make up with her."

He glared at me. "Who the hell said I wanted to make up with her?"

Dallas crossed his arms and fidgeted on the stool for a few seconds before swearing and kicking at the bar. He stood and stomped across the room, almost the same way as Sylvia had only moments ago. Without looking up, James Dean made a whipping noise as Dallas passed.

I breathed out and sat down again beside Two-Bit.

"Boy, I thought you were gonna get your ass-kicked right then," Two-Bit said mildly.

I stared at him. "Me! You're the one who was mouthing off to him. I thought he was going to punch you right in that smart mouth of yours."

Two-Bit shook his head. "Nah, I only said enough to get him started, not enough to get punched. Dallas always manages to work himself into a fighting mood. He forgets he doesn't really care."

"He didn't care that you called him Sylvia's-"

"Bitch?"

"I was going to say _dog._"

"You were going to say bitch. Admit it." Two-Bit grinned at me; I would have liked to be mad at him, but he'd put me in too good of a mood for that.

I folded my arms across my chest. "Call it what you like, I still think he'd care."

Two-Bit signalled the bartender for another couple of beers. "I didn't say nearly enough to make him care. You on the other hand …"

"Me?"

He nodded. "Let me explain you something: you told him what to do. 'Go after her Dallas!'" Two-Bit said in a high girly voice. "'Go fetch! Rrrruff!' Dally don't take kindly to be ordered around by girls."

"I didn't order him!"

"You were pretty mouthy."

"Well, Sylvia was mouthy to him."

"_And_ she slapped him."

"But, Dallas didn't hit her."

Two-Bit gasped in mock shock. "She's a girl, you can't hit girls!"

"But, I'm a girl."

"Yeah?"

"Dallas wouldn't have hit me."

"Well, I don't know about that, you were pretty mouthy."

"We've been here before," I said exasperated.

"Thought I recognized that stool."

I groaned and put my head in my hands, but I couldn't help laughing.

"I don't make the rules, sweetheart," Two-Bit said with a grin.

I rolled my eyes. "You just follow them, right?"

"What gave you that idea?"

I laughed. "Well, you did manage not to get punched out by Dallas."

He wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, well … I suppose it might have had something to do with you."

I grinned at him. "So, I saved you?"

Two-Bit looked pleased that I was joking with him. "Stopped his fist right in mid-air, and you being just a tiny thing, too."

"Second time today," I admitted. "Earlier he said he woulda given me one if I wasn't the Curtises' cousin."

Two-Bit laughed. "Two for two!" He raised his beer at me. "You're the ultimate Dallas-fightin' champion. Undefeated!"

"I could kick his ass anytime," I agreed, laughing.

He cocked an eyebrow. "Well, seeing as you're a lady, you'd kick his _behind_ wouldn't you?"

I blushed, and he laughed, but he didn't say anything else.

"Why does he like to fight so much?" I asked finally.

Two-Bit shrugged. "Tell you the truth, I ain't even sure he likes it. But, I think he'd be surprised if you told him there was a way to settle an argument besides puttin' your fist in someone's face. Dallas comes from a long line o' fighters, on both sides from what I heard."

"Oh," I said. There wasn't much else to say to something like that. I'd never met Dally's parents. When we were real young, I remember thinking he didn't even have any.

Two-Bit looked at me carefully. "Dally fights cuz he figures it's his only choice. Hell, it probably is. He thinks it's hit or be hit, and he's probably right, seeing as he also likes to piss people off. But, he don't really care." Two-Bit took a gulp from his beer and squinted at me. "If I'd called him anything more, he would have jumped on me and we'd be fighting. But, ask him why after we're done and he'd have no idea. And you know why?"

"Bad short-term memory?" I suggested.

Two-Bit looked at me in surprise and grinned. "Well, I shoulda known. You were a smartass kid, why not a smartass broad?"

"Smartass broad? Look whose talking."

"Hey, I ain't a smartass! I'm just a regular broad."

I rolled my eyes and threw my hands into the air in mock frustration.

Two-Bit snapped his fingers. "Bartender! Whisky for the lady, think she needs it."

"Poor girl's been talking to you all night, of course she does."

Sodapop sidled back up to us and took my second untouched beer. "Guess who I saw," he asked Two-Bit, grinning like crazy.

"Who?"

"Bonnie Welsh."

Two-Bit choked on his beer. "Here?"

"Yup," Soda said cheerfully. "She was on a date, but I don't think it was going too well, seeing as I got her number."

Two-Bit shook his head admiringly. "For Darry?"

"You're picking up women for Darry now?" I asked, surprised.

Soda shrugged. "He may have the muscles, but he don't have the-"

"Balls?" Two-Bit suggested.

"Time," Soda finished. "And if he don't ask her out soon, we're gonna have to switch supermarkets, cuz he can't get no shopping done properly around her." He swatted me with a napkin. "You ready to take off?"

"Yeah, I guess," I said, my head spinning from trying to keep up with the conversation. Sodapop hadn't been interested in girls in the least when I'd left, unless it was about how easy it was to scare them with worms. Hearing him talk endlessly about picking up girls, and dating girls, and helping _Darry_ out with girls even was a little disconcerting. I couldn't wrap my head around Sodapop the Charmer.

Soda drained the rest of the beer in a couple of gulps, seeing as we were taking off. I didn't mind leaving the place, since I doubted Dallas would be back, if he had caught up with Sylvia. I could have kicked myself for sending him in her direction.

"Good, let's go. You want a ride home, Two-Bit?"

"Naw, I got my car," Two-Bit said, taking a swig from his beer.

"Well, don't drink too much," Soda said absently. "You remember the last time you went driving drunk?"

"Busted my back bumper, just tryin' to get outta the parking space," Two-Bit chuckled.

"Yeah, well just so long as you don't bust your head open," Soda said, and punched him on the arm. "Take it easy, Two-Bit."

"Thanks for the company," I said, and hopped off the stool.

"Thanks right back," Two-Bit said, smiling. "I'll pick you up tomorrow morning – or you goin' to the DX again with Soda?"

"Since when do you get up in the morning to pick up my cousin?" Soda asked, surprised.

"He's right," Two-Bit said. "Let's make it afternoon. Tell you what, I'll pick you up from the DX around one or so, take you to lunch at the diner. What do you say?"

"I say 'okay'," I said. "I guess I'll see you then. 'Night."

We pushed past the crowd again. James Dean was still at the table, but he'd put down the cards and was listening to some guy talking in a low voice. I would have liked to get a closer look, but Soda grabbed my hand and dragged me away.

"Two-Bit?" Soda asked me, once we were outside. "Are you kidding me?"

"What?"

"I thought you liked Dallas."

"Sodapop Curtis!" I gasped. "I never said! I don't …"

"Okay, okay," Soda grinned. "You _don't_ like Dallas. But that still don't explain why Two-Bit's taking you to lunch."

I shook my head violently. "He's just being friendly. Introduce me to his sister and stuff."

"Sure, sure," Soda teased. "He keep you company all night, too?"

"Only cuz you were too busy running after some girl," I accused. "You keep running off and leaving me by my lonesome. Who do you expect me to talk to, if not him?"

Soda gave me a broad smile that I recognized. "Well, okay. Okay."

He took off at a loping stride, whistling some tune, and I glared at his back. I knew he was up to something.

xxxx

"Where the hell have you been?" Darry demanded, the second we were in the door.

He startled me something awful, barrelling out of the kitchen with a scowl on his face. He planted his feet firmly on the carpet and crossed his arms, giving us both a stern look. He reminded me so strongly of Uncle Darry for a second, I forgot he was only my cousin. I felt awful guilty, like we were in trouble.

"Where have you been?" he repeated.

"We went to Buck's," I said obediently. Soda turned around, his eyes wide, and made a violent shushing motion.

"Buck's?" Darry repeated. "Buck Merrill's?"

Soda sighed. "Busted."

"You took Susie to Buck's? What the hell is wrong with you, Sodapop?" Darry's voice was rising.

"Take it easy, Darry. It wasn't a big deal," Soda said hastily. Even though he was only four years younger than Darry, he looked as guilty as if he was being chastised by a parent. "It wasn't all that crowded. It was pretty tame, actually."

"I only talked to Two-Bit," I said quickly, seeing the frown on Darry's face deepen. "And Dallas a bit."

"Dallas is bad enough," Darry said shortly.

"Aw, come on Darry," Soda said, kicking off his shoes and yawning. "Dally ain't that bad and you know it."

"I can kick his ass," I added, and Soda's mouth twitched.

Darry pointed a finger at Soda and he actually shook it, like he was lecturing Soda. I stared at Darry. He was our cousin and brother – where had this parent act come from? "Susie's our guest, Soda. You don't want to be taking her to some broken down roadhouse for a couple of beers with the local hoods."

"It was fun," I said.

Darry dropped his arm and stared at me. "It … you had fun? Well …" His mouth worked for a second, trying to find the words.

"It's_dangerous_." He pointed his finger again triumphantly at Soda.

"Darry," Soda said lazily, flopping down on the couch. "It ain't_dangerous._"

"It is, in more ways than one," Darry said stubbornly. He turned to me. "Did he talk to Buck?"

Soda sat up. "Darry, I was only asking about it."

"I know you Sodapop, and if you was asking about horses, it was with an aim to ride one of them."

"What's so bad about horses?" I asked, confused.

"I ain't allowed to ride, on account of my leg injury," Soda said glumly. I felt sorry for him for a second, he looked so down.

"He tore a ligament, and he promised Dad he wouldn't ride again," Darry said.

"There ain't no horses at Buck's," Soda pointed out. "You can't nail me on that one, Superman. You got anything else?"

Darry frowned and the parent act slipped from him like a towel. For a second he looked lost for words. Soda bit his lip, watching Darry. He looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"I don't like you goin' there," Darry said finally.

"And how come?"

Darry glared at him. "I can't remember right now, but I know you shouldn't be goin' there."

Soda sighed, but he was smiling. "Dar, the reason is Social Services-"

"Ha!" Darry pointed his finger at Soda for the third time. "If they ever found out I was letting you boys go there, you'd be pulled outta this house in a second." He paused for a second. "I can't believe I forgot that reason," he muttered to himself.

Soda bowed his head, looking properly chastised, but I could see the smile he was trying to hide. "You got me there."

Darry sighed and leaned back against the wall. "Don't tell Ponyboy," he said after a minute.

"That we went, or that you forgot why we're not supposed to go?" Soda asked grinning.

Darry folded his arms across his chest and scowled. "Don't get mouthy on me. Had a long day, and you not being here made it longer. I guess it didn't occur to you that it was _your_ turn to cook dinner tonight, either, huh?"

Soda and I looked at each other. I had the feeling that this was the real reason why Darry was upset.

Soda smacked himself on the forehead. "Aw, man, I forgot. Sorry, Darry."

Darry shrugged and dropped into an easy chair. "That's okay. You can do the dishes. Ponyboy tried to make a cake," he said smugly.

Soda groaned. "Can't we just throw out the pans?"

"You gonna pay for new ones?" He nodded at me. "There's some chicken in the fridge if you're hungry."

"What about me?" Soda asked in mock indignation.

"You don't get any, you lying little-"

"How 'bout if I trade you for it," Soda said, waving the napkin in front of Darry. "Guess whose number I got?"

Darry went red. "I don't care," he mumbled.

"Sure," Soda teased. "Do you want it?"

"No. Give it here."

I watched them with interest. It was so strange to see these boys bickering about dangerous parties and trading girls' phone numbers, and to know that they called themselves greasers.

"Where is Ponyboy, anyway?" Soda called from the kitchen.

"He's out with Johnny," Darry said wearily.

I headed into the kitchen after that chicken. "Hey Darry, how do you spell Socs?" I called.

"Socs?"

"She's been talking about Socs and greasers all day," Soda added. "Cuz Dallas mentioned it to her."

I gave him a look, and he stuck his tongue out at me.

"What about them?"

"She don't believe we're greasers."

Darry chuckled. "She thinks we're Socs?"

I heard the screen door crash open and a second later Pony's voice called out. "Hello?"

I went back to the living room. "Ponyboy, how do you spell Socs?"

Ponyboy gave me a long look. "Well, I would guess it'd be S-O-C-S, because it's short for Socials and that's spelled S-O-C-I-A-L-S." He sat down on the couch and picked up a book.

"She doesn't think we're greasers," Darry informed him.

"Why not?" Pony said absently.

"Beats me," Darry said, and picked up the newspaper. "Soda, bring me the scissors, will ya? There's some coupons in here I think we can use."

"Here ya go," Soda said cheerfully, ambling in from the kitchen.

I looked around the living room at my cousins: Pony holding "Oliver Twist" about an inch from his nose, Darry cutting out a coupon for ten cents off of box of Tide, and Soda wearing a checked apron tied across his waist with soap suds on his arms.

"Y'all are greasers alright."

The screen door open and closed behind me and I turned to see a boy my age standing there with his fists shoved into his jeans jacket. He was wearing jeans, an un-tucked black t-shit under his jacket and tennis shoes, and his thick black hair was so heavily greased it looked like he'd come in out of a downpour.

I pointed at him. "See, now, _he_ looks like a greaser."


	5. Meet Virginia

**Chapter 5: Meet Virginia**

xxxx

**A/N:** Alright, it's been ten gazillion years since the last update. Sorry guys.

P.S. There's a TINY nod to the book here. Only the obsessed will find it, I'm sure.

**Recap:** 'Sonly fair, since I made y'all wait. Mary Susan "Susie" Shipman comes to visit her cousins Pony, Darry, and Sodapop for the summer, after having left Tulsa seven years prior. She has a bit of a thing for her childhood crush Dallas Winston, who, as of yet, has shown absolutely zero interest, as he has his lovely handful of a girlfriend Sylvia to deal with. Two-Bit Mathews, possibly out of sheer boredom, has taken an interest in helping Susie find a job at the diner where his mother and sister work.

**Disclaimer:** S.E. Hinton wrote _The Outsiders_ when she was five years younger than I am now. Damn. The woman deserves props, yo.

xxxx

It was almost three o'clock when Two-Bit finally made it to the DX to pick me up for lunch and I was _starving._

I'd been leaning dozily against one of the gas station pumps, watching Soda and Steve bicker and occasionally work on the cars, but I jumped about a foot in the air hearing the noise of Two-Bit's car rumble into the station.

I'd seen Steve and Soda working on plenty of junkers, but the one Two-Bit was driving took the cake. It was large, a horrible shade of brownish-yellow and loud as a high school brass band. It sure was a huge contrast to the sleek and shiny little convertibles the rich girls would drive.

"Hey there, Susie," Two-Bit said said cheerfully, banging on the car door and honking the horn. "Feel like taking a drive?"

"You won't get two blocks in the piece of crap," Steve hollered. "You better walk instead, Susie, you'll get wherever you're going a heckuva lot faster."

"You can get anywhere fast in old Jemima here," Two-Bit said, cutting the engine and hopping out of the car.

"Jemima?" I laughed.

"Ain't she just the colour of pancake syrup?" Two-Bit gave me a wink. "Hey, Stevie, I bring my baby down here later, you give her an oil change?"

"You know Steve'd change any girl's oil he could get his hands on," Soda said, grinning. I rolled my eyes. The girl-crazy business was getting old fast.

"Nope, I wouldn't," Steve said, emerging from the garage, wiping his hands on a rag trying to get them clean. In vain, in my opinion. He was just gonna go and get 'em dirty again in a minute. "I ain't looking at any girl no more."

Two-Bit raised an eyebrow. "You got something against women now, Randle?"

"No," Soda said smugly. "He's in _love._"

"Shut it," Steve said.

"He's found his one and only."

"I'm warning you …"

"Well, the only one that'll have him, anyway."

Steve tossed the dirty rag at Soda's face, irritably. "It ain't none of your damn business, anyway."

"You gettin' serious with Evie, now?" Two-Bit asked.

Steve shrugged, looking embarrassed. "We been dating awhile. A long while. You know how girls get. She kept talking shit about Curly Shepard, so I figured I'd give her my ring just to shut her the hell up."

"Curly Shepard?" Two-Bit said, disbelievingly. "Shepard's idiot kid brother? He ain't barely fifteen! I'd bet good money he's never seen tit before in his life. 'Scuse me," he added, nodding at me, as if acknowledging my presence somehow made me deaf to his words. Soda gave him a look that did absolutely nothing. He wasn't real scary, Sodapop.

Steve grinned suddenly. "Yeah, I know all about Shepard. Evie and her tricks. She thinks I don't see right through that stuff, her talking about some dumb kid hood. I bet she ain't never even talked to him. She's all for me and I know it." He swiped the rag from Soda again, still grinning like crazy. "She's _all_ for me."

Soda let out a low whistle. "All?"

"It was a magic ring you gave her, then?" Two-Bit said.

Steve started to curse, but stopped himself with a quick glance in my direction. He snapped Two-Bit with the rag instead. "You bring some money this time along with that rust-bucket of yours and I might take a look at it."

"Thanks, man," Two-Bit said cheerfully. "Susie, why don't we head out, if you're all done here. I'm about starved waitin' on you."

"You're starved?" I planted my hands on my waist. "I'm so hungry I'd even take a ride in that 'rust-bucket' of yours just to get to food faster."

"She _is _rusty, just like me," Two-Bit said, running one finger down his red-coloured sideburns. "Still, she'll get you where you wanna go but fast."

He got back in the driver's seat, and I headed towards the passenger side. His eyes met mine, and a sudden look of panic crossed his face.

"Oh, hell, I forgot," he yelped, and leapt out of the seat. He dashed around to my side and tugged at the door. "Shit, she's locked."

He raced back around and slid across the driver's seat, unlocking my car door. "Don't move!"

I stood still at the door and watched him, laughing as he gave an exaggerated leap onto the hood of the car and slid about half a foot. He pulled himself squeakily over the rest of the car's hood, scrambled to his feet and after a few hard tugs managed to open my door.

"There!" he said, looking pleased. "Almost forgot my manners. Can't make a person work too hard, can I?"

"Thanks," I laughed. "You're a real gentleman."

I made to climb in the car but he stopped me.

"No, that ain't what I meant."

He slid into the passenger seat himself, holding up his keys. "Here, it's your turn to drive."

"Well, it ain't no wonder that your car's as beat up as it is," Soda remarked over my laughter. He was watching us with his arms folded, a strange look in his eye. "You keep throwin' that ass of yours all over it like that."

Two-Bit grinned at him. "Well, she might not live much longer anyway, now that this crazy broad's got my keys."

xxxx

As ugly as Two-Bit's car looked and sounded, it drove okay. I hadn't driven in awhile since I'd taken the test on my birthday, but I didn't have any trouble driving steady down the street. I even managed to park pretty straight.

I turned off the engine and turned to give Two-Bit his keys back and found him gripping the dashboard tightly.

"What's the matter?" I asked him, frowning. "I drove okay, didn't I? Not too fast?"

"You drove at a snail's pace," he mumbled. "I just ain't used to not driving."

"Well, next time don't give me the keys," I said tartly. "It's your own fault."

He smiled ruefully. "Guess it is, huh."

He led me into a tiny diner with a yellow and red awning over it and a small red sign with the word "Gina's"written on it.

Two-Bit held the door, which I thought was very gentlemanly of him. He was a puzzle; one minute, swearing and dirty-talking in front of me like I was a boy, the next, treating me like I was his date. It was going to take some time to figure him out, that was for sure. He wasn't as simple as he looked.

The diner wasn't real big, and it obviously wasn't a huge money-maker, but it was clean and well kept, and the few patrons in it didn't look all that rough. It wouldn't be a bad place to work.

There was a very slim, blonde girl, maybe thirteen or fourteen years old, with a tiny upturned nose standing behind the cash register inside the diner. Her slippery-looking hair was pulled up into a knot at the back of her head and she'd jammed a few stubby pencils into it. She looked up at the sound of the entrance bell when we came in and her round face grimaced, showing dimples.

"What do _you_ want?" she said huffily.

"Two hamburgers, two cokes, a basket of fries, and a job," Two-Bit said, walking up to the counter and plunking himself down on one of the stools.

"A job?" the girl asked incredulously.

Two-Bit jerked his thumb at me. "Yeah, that's for her."

The girl's eyes went back and forth quickly between Two-Bit and me. "Who's this? Where's Kathy?"

I felt my face begin to grow hot. "I'm Susie Shipman," I said tentatively. "The Curtises' cousin? From Wyoming?"

The girl stared at me, open-mouthed. She had the same clear, grey eyes that Two-Bit did.

"Well, shit," she said, finally.

"Hey," Two-Bit said warningly. "Watch that mouth, Virginia."

Virginia Mathews! Two-Bit's younger sister. It seemed amazing that I hadn't remembered. We'd spent enough time together as kids, although me and Soda had had a habit of playing pranks on her. She'd been an easy target, as had I, being that we were the only two girls amongst a group of rambunctious boys. My greatest recollection of her was as a dirty-faced young girl in a wrinkled dress, her hair messy, her round face screwed up in a tearful tantrum.

I was sorry to say that looking at her face now, I could imagine her much the same way.

Virginia gave Two-Bit an incredulous look. "You're kidding me. What's with the big brother act?" She glanced at me. "Quit showing off."

I was shocked to see Two-Bit turn very lightly red and mumble something incomprehensible before slipping off the stool and hightailing it to the bathroom.

His sister laughed. "I'm the only one who can do that to him," she said, with more than a small measure of pride in her voice.

"It's a talent," I said, smiling.

She grinned at me. "Sorry for swearin', but it's been a long time, and anyone'd pick up a few bad habits what with the mouth on my brother. How you been? How's Wyoming?"

"Not terrible." I hopped up onto one of the stools. "Not nearly as humid as it is down here."

She brushed impatiently at her sweat-slicked hair. "Ain't that the truth. It's like living in a double-boiler down here."

I nodded. "And how are you?"

She sighed. "Busy working, on account of the lazy ass who's taken up residence in my mother's house, calling himself my brother. When you gonna bring home some money, huh?" she scolded Two-Bit, as he sidled back to the counter.

"One of these days, I'll marry rich," he said with a grin. "How 'bout those hamburgers Ginny?"

She blew out her breath in frustration, blowing her bangs off her forehead. "You come down here for a hamburger? Just to hassle me?"

"Well, mostly here to hassle you for a job, not a 'burger," Two-Bit said seriously. "Susie's been here not two days and she's already bored."

"Well, of course," Ginny said tartly. "Hanging around with only a bunch of boys to talk to."

"The Curtises are nice," I said quickly.

"The Curtises are boys," Ginny said flatly. "Maybe you forgot what boys are like in the years since you been gone, but I get daily reminders." She glared at Two-Bit, who blew her a kiss. "Boys ain't _nice_. Even the Curtises."

"Well, they ain't the French braidin' type, that's for sure," Two-Bit said cheerfully. "Susie's gonna need something better to occupy her time than watching Sodapop mangle the cars."

Ginny scowled. "You think that's all we do when boys ain't around, huh? French braid our hair and _talk_ about boys."

"Yes."

"It's a wonder that Kathy puts up with you," Ginny said darkly.

"She don't," Two-Bit said.

There was a short silence and then Two-Bit cleared his throat. "So, the job?"

Ginny bit her lip and looked at me. She must have felt bad for bringing up whoever Kathy was; she didn't look at Two-Bit. "You got any experience?"

I nodded. "Plenty. I been working part-time in a bakery since I was fourteen."

She squinted at me, and I suddenly felt desperate for her to say yes. Aside from being something to do all summer, it would be nice to have some female company.

"I'm real hardworking, it's not like I'd be dragging you down," I added.

She blew out her breath, making her bangs flutter, and shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't mind, but it ain't my call."

Two-Bit looked at her, one eyebrow raised. "It as good as is your call. You know Gina'll do anything you say, so long as you let her pat you on the head and tell you that you remind her of her when she was young and silly. Gina and her husband own this place," he added, nodding at me.

"She does love me," Ginny said, grinning in a way that made her look ever more like Two-Bit.

"Naw, she don't, she's just scared of mom," Two-Bit said with a grin. Ginny made an annoyed sound and swiped at him with her rag.

"You put in the good word with Gina?"

"Yeah, I guess," Ginny said grudgingly. "Show up here tomorrow at ten, I'll have time to sweet-talk her by then."

"You can really do that?" I said admiringly.

She shrugged. "Sure. It's easy. I just gotta think of the right thing to say and I can get whatever I want from her."

"Boy howdy, what a man would give for that talent," Two-Bit said under his breath.

I couldn't help blush. I knew exactly what he was talking about. "You don't mince words do you?"

He grinned at me. "Sorry m'lady, I ain't going in for that manners junk. I know you," he said, looking straight at me with those clear grey eyes. "You're still that ragamuffin Susie Shipman, running around causin' trouble with ol' Sodapop. You know the score as well as he do, which ain't as well as I do, but it's good enough. You can't fool me."

I should have felt mad, I guess. He'd as good as told me I wasn't a lady. But, for some reason, I felt almost like he'd paid me a compliment.

xxxx

We ate at the bar so Ginny could join us, at least until the early dinner rush came in and then she had to scurry off. I almost regretted having asked her for a job when I saw how crazy it got for her in there. There were a number of male customers who gave her appreciative glances, but I was glad to see that it went no further, and they treated her with mostly respect.

The diner cleared out slowly, and once it was down to a couple customers, Ginny came and sat with us again. Her face was red with effort and shiny with sweat, but she hardly seemed to care.

"Gina'll be in tonight to help out," she said, sitting down wearily. "Thank goodness. I sure hope she gives you the job; would make my life a heckuva lot easier."

"Is it very hard to work here?" I asked nervously. I could see Two-Bit trying to hide a smile.

"Only certain customers," Ginny said. "This place is small, and it's mostly regulars that come in here. I can tell you, the night crowd is, well," she gave me knowing look, "a little rougher."

"Oh?" I could hear the apprehension in my voice, but I hoped she couldn't.

"Yeah, they're our kind, you know, greasers," Ginny said, lowering her voice. "Loud, poor and dangerous. They ain't the kind of person you'd ever want to turn your back on neither."

Two-Bit snorted. "You're exaggerating."

"I'm not," Ginny said solemnly. "This here is a grease hang-out. Do you deny it?"

Two-Bit rolled his eyes. "Well, no, but-"

"And greasers are dangerous," she insisted.

"Some of them, but-"

"Ain't you been burned by this group before? More'n once, I'd say."

Two-Bit raised an eyebrow. "Not so much with switchblades or fists."

Ginny shook her head. "They don't use 'em." She looked at me sideways. "They don't _need_ them."

Two-Bit chuckled. "Well, alright then, Miss Danger. I see a couple of your scary shit customers coming in now."

Ginny looked past me and groaned. "These ones are the worst. They usually ain't here until a little later, but they'll stay here from now until it's time to meet their dates at Buck's, ordering floats and fries just to torment me."

I heard the bell over the door announce their arrival and I turned quickly, anxious to see the customers that had Ginny so worked up. A sharp voice called out, filling the tiny restaurant:

"Virginia, for crying out loud, can't you do something with that hair of yours? You look like a boy, all sweaty like that."

I felt my mouth drop open in surprise, and Two-Bit leaned over to whisper in my ear.

"The most dangerous person in Tulsa," he murmured, his voice tinged with laughter. "At least, the most dangerous legs in Tulsa."

It was Sylvia.

xxxx

A/N: Oh, yeah. Bringing in the girl gangs, hah. I had such a hard time with Two-Bit Mathews' sister. The hardest thing was not calling her "Grace".

Oh yeah:

This fic/chapter is being post as part of "Good Fic Day," an effort to raise the quality of writing here. We hope to encourage more writers to improve the quality of their own fan fiction - spell check, grammar check, keep the gang in character, outline, plot and don't use Mary Sue's. Good fan fiction requires effort, and we would like to encourage other writers to rise to the challenge of producing better fan fiction, not only for our readers, but for S.E. Hinton, who created the wonderful book we are trying to honour.

Eh, I tried, anyway. ;)


	6. The Girlfriend Coalition

**Chapter 6: The Girlfriend Coalition**

xxxx

**A/N: **As usual, there's a nod to the novel in here. Scavenger hunt!

"A **coalition** is an alliance among individuals, during which they cooperate in joint action, each in their own self-interest. This alliance may be temporary or a matter of convenience."

- Wikipedia

**Disclaimer:** I don't own "The Outsiders" etc., S.E. Hinton does.

xxxx

Sylvia tapped her foot impatiently, hands on hips. "Bring me a float. Now."

"Sit down, you mad cow, or I won't get you nothing," Ginny said irritably.

Sylvia rolled her eyes and made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat, but she sat. Two other girls followed her in. One of them was blonde, taller than Sylvia, and slim, almost willowy. She had dreamy looking blue eyes, and rosy cheeks, and her hair was pulled up into a ponytail with a white ribbon. The other had jet black hair cropped almost as short as a boy's, and red painted nails. She had outlined her eyes in heavy black eyeliner, but it suited her more than it did most other girls.

I looked at Two-Bit. He looked like he was having trouble keeping from laughing. "These are scary people?"

"They are to you," he said, grinning.

Ginny looked at me and sighed. "Well, since you're here, you might as well meet them. You'll have to deal with them soon enough yourself." She handed me a glass she'd been preparing. "Here, give this to her highness, willya?"

I took the glass and made my way to the girls' table, feeling more apprehensive by the second.

"Hi," I said, trying to sound friendly, but Sylvia held up a hand.

"Hold up, girlie. I know you." She looked at me closely. "You're Soda Curtis's cousin, Cindy?"

"Susie," I said, uncomfortably. She had awfully piercing eyes for a girl.

"Right," she nodded. "Gimme my float."

I set it down quickly. "You're Sylvia, right? Dally's, um …"

She nodded, not looking at me, and took a sip of the float. "Yup."

"'Yup'? So, he _did_ apologize?" the black-haired girl said, looking interested.

Sylvia shrugged, looking annoyed. "Well, he as good as did, anyway."

The pink-cheeked blonde sighed. "Sylvia, you have to hear the words from him. If he doesn't say it, how do you know-"

"If he said it, he'd be lying," Sylvia snapped. "Anyway, I know he means it. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come after me, would he have?"

I bit my lip. I had an idea what she was talking about, and it wouldn't be a great first impression to tell Sylvia that it had been my idea for Dallas to go after her, and not his.

The black-haired girl laughed. "Well, I reckon his reasons depend on what you were wearing, honey."

I laughed along with them, and the girl looked at me, as if just noticing I was there. "So, you're related to Soda Curtis, are you?"

I nodded.

"Don't look much like him," she said, nonchalantly examining her red nails.

"Be nice, Evie," said the blonde. She beamed at me. "Soda's my boyfriend. And he apologizes every time he does something wrong." She shot a pointed look at Sylvia.

Sylvia widened her eyes in mock interest. "Does he wear your skirts too, Sandra Dee?"

The blonde turned red, and the girl named Evie laughed and clapped her hands. "Hey now, Stevie apologizes too, and he's definitely manly."

My head was spinning. Steve? Soda? Dallas? All their girlfriends at one table … just how tiny _was_ Tulsa?

Evie looked up at me through black lashes. "If you're related to Soda, that means you know Steve, too, don't it?" She poked my arm with one her nails. "You touch him, and I'll skin you, y'hear?"

I nodded again, and rubbed my arm.

"And now you know why they don't need switches," Two-Bit said suddenly from behind me. "They grow 'em themselves." He pointed at Evie's nails.

"Hi Two-Bit," the blonde said, smiling, her round pink cheeks looking like cherries.

Two-Bit smiled back. "This is Sandy. She's the only one who you don't gotta worry about. Evie's a right little firecracker and, well, Sylvia …" He trailed off.

"Oh, greaser friend of Dallas's," Sylvia said, absently waving a hand. "Tell your sister to bring us some French fries."

"I got 'em," Ginny said, sounding aggravated. She plunked a steaming tray down in front of Sylvia. "Every damn day, you order the same crap. Why not try a salad?"

Sylvia looked her up and down. "Are you calling me fat?"

"No one's calling no one fat," Evie said soothingly.

"Jesus Christ," I heard Two-Bit mutter. "Fucking nuts."

"What's that?" Sylvia asked sharply.

"Only butts," Two-Bit said louder, "left. Outta smokes." He looked at me. "You going to be alright here? I'm just gonna run out to the drugstore-"

"Ten minutes away," Ginny interrupted.

"Just like to get some smokes," Two-Bit said irritably, shooting a look at Sylvia. "If you're meaning to stay longer, Susie-"

"Go ahead," I said quickly. I hadn't seen him in a bad mood yet, but I didn't imagine he'd stay in a good mood long around Sylvia the way he was going. "Pick me up on your way back?"

"You bet," he said. He leaned in close for a second, then stopped himself, looking surprised. "Uh, I mean, see ya." He left in a hurry.

"Huh," Ginny said, sounding amazed. "Here I thought he was trying to be a gentleman and he up and left you with these piranhas."

Evie grinned. "We won't bite. Pull up a chair."

"You look like a nice girl," Sandy added.

Sylvia shrugged. "Well, there's room in the group now, I guess."

The 'group'? "Who _are_ you?" I asked, looking wonderingly around at the girls.

"We call ourselves the Girlfriend Coalition," Evie said. "An' we're missing one because your idiot brother," she pointed a fry at Ginny, "went and dumped Kathy."

"It's too bad," Sandy said absently. "I liked her."

"No point crying into your milk," Sylvia said, climbing up on the chair and perching on the tabletop. I had a feeling she did it so she would be taller than everyone. She was awful short.

"The ex-girlfriends drop off like that," Sylvia said, snapping her fingers. "Nobody's fault. But, when she swings a new boyfriend, she'll have a new crowd to hang out with."

"Is that the stupidest thing you've ever heard?" Ginny asked me in an undertone.

"Don't you have your own friends?" I ventured cautiously. "Girls you know from school? Not girls you know through your boyfriends …"

There was a short silence.

"That is such a single girl thing to say," Sylvia said finally.

xxxx

Getting a package of cigarettes took Two-Bit an awful lot longer than I would have expected. I didn't know any of the girls that Evie, Sandy and Sylvia were talking about, or their boyfriends, and the constant gossip about who was going with who, who got dumped by whom, and who wore what and when and why was starting to bore me. Ginny kept leaping up and running off to deal with the other customers, and I was just starting to regret having stayed when the mention of Two-Bit caught my attention.

"Breaking up with Kathy was stupid," Sylvia was saying. "She was Two-Bit's best catch and he knows it. He won't be able to get another girl like that."

It was one of Ginny's short breaks and she was sitting with us, and I could see her tense out of the corner of my eye.

Sylvia looked at me sideways. "'Course, just cuz he couldn't get another nice girl don't mean he won't be trying." She sighed dramatically. "He sure don't like to waste time, do he?"

Ginny's nostrils flared and her hands balled into fists. "How dare you-"

"So, are you the President?" I asked hastily, trying to change the subject.

Sylvia gave me an incredulous look. "We're not a _gang._ We're _friends._"

"We're a gang," Evie said, examining her claws. "And she only thinks she's the president."

"Don't make me scratch out your fucking eyes," Sylvia said.

"We're both," Sandy said quickly. "Sort of."

"Of _course_, I'd be the fucking president, if we were a gang," Sylvia snarled, ignoring Sandy. "I been with Dallas longer than either of you been with what's-his-name or the grease monkey."

Neither Evie nor Sandy looked offended; I had to assume they were used to that kind of talk. It wasn't something I heard from most girls though, and I couldn't help wondering again why Dallas would date such a trashy-mouthed girl.

"But, I thought you broke up with Dallas," I started, but was drowned out by the laughter from Evie, Sandy and Ginny.

"Sylvia breaking up with Dallas only means so much," Sandy said, while Sylvia scowled at her.

"It means he probably got some sugar that night," Evie said dryly.

"Shut your mouth," Sylvia said, but she smiled wickedly.

I could feel my cheeks getting hot. Sure, the girls at home in Wyoming talked about sex, but mostly it was to say how they'd told their boyfriends off for asking after it. None of my friends back home would have ever considered such a thing, especially not with a boy like Dallas – I mean, I sure couldn't imagine him ever proposing.

"Dallas and Sylvia will be dating forever," Sandy said, shaking her head. She continued, as if reading my thoughts, "I bet you a hundred dollars they'll end up married."

In spite of myself, I felt my heart sink at her words.

Sylvia drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs. "I ain't fixin' on being his girlfriend forever. Ain't nobody going to tie me down. I'm gonna get out of this hum drum town one day."

"And get to California," Evie added, rolling her eyes.

"Hollywood!" Sandy cheered.

"She wants to be an actress, like Vivien Leigh," Ginny said scornfully.

Sylvia scowled again, looking a little like Dally. "It don't have to be Hollywood. Just somewhere exciting, like Paris or New York."

"Dallas lived in New York," I said absently.

"I know," Sylvia added quietly. "He said maybe he'd take me, when we get older." She sighed and pulled her knees in tighter. I started at the dreamy, lovesick expression on her face. Hadn't she just said she didn't want to stay with Dallas forever?

Then she seemed to shake herself, and sat up straighter. "'Course, he can be persuaded to say a lot of things I don't expect he means," she said, smirking.

Thankfully, before she could say anymore on that subject, the doorbell tinkled again and Two-Bit poked his head in. He caught my eye and raised an eyebrow. "Ready?"

"Ain't you gonna come in and say hi properly," Evie called out, stretching and lighting a cigarette.

I couldn't help staring. Momma would skin me alive if she caught me smoking, which I took to be thoroughly hypocritical given what she and Aunt Jennie used to go through on their "Women's Health Nights" they used to have when the Uncles were watching football. I'd seen my cousins and Two-Bit and Dallas all smoking, but of course they smoked like boys; there was nothing sophisticated about it. Evie was different – she held the cigarette delicately between two fingers, and gracefully bent her head away to blow out smoke.

Evie caught my gaze and quirked an eyebrow. "What?"

I blushed. "Nothing." I knew smoking was a bad habit, but I couldn't help thinking she looked cool. I knew without a doubt that Sylvia smoked. I wondered if Dallas thought that was cool too … ?

"Susie?"

"Coming, Two-Bit," I said quickly and jumped up. "It was nice to meet y'all."

"Hope to see you again soon, Susie," Sandy said warmly.

Evie nodded, and took another drag. "See ya."

"Gimme one," Sylvia said, holding her hand out to Evie for a cigarette. She didn't look up until I was almost out the door. "Hey, Susie."

I looked back, and she met my gaze. I stared back as hard as I could, though I wanted to look away.

Sylvia lit a cigarette, never taking her eyes off me. She took a drag, and let it out slowly. "You're okay," she said finally.

"Thanks," I said, uncomfortably. "You … too?"

It didn't seem to matter what I'd said; she'd already turned away again.

"Ten o'clock!" Ginny yelled as I left.

"Right," I murmured.

Two-Bit looked at me sideways. "It's okay. I don't reckon the girlfriends ever go out before noon, anyway."

xxxx

Two-Bit didn't offer me the keys on the way back. He sure didn't take it easy on the roads, though. I wouldn't have minded too much, only I was a little shook up already from meeting 'the gang'.

"Can't you drive any slower?"

Two-Bit chuckled. "Got to you a bit, huh?"

"I guess," I said glumly. "I don't understand boys, Two-Bit."

"First things first, Susie," he said seriously. "Those were girls."

"Don't they have any common sense at all?" I knew I was being ill-tempered, but I couldn't help myself. What on earth could Dallas see in a girl like Sylvia? She was crass and uncouth and mean …

"Nope, girls don't have much common sense," Two-Bit laughed. He glanced at me. "Well, most girls anyway. Most of the time you seem to have your head on right-"

"You tell me why anyone would date Sylvia!"

"And then there are other times …"

"I'm serious, Two-Bit." I sighed. "She swears all the time, awfully too, and the things she talks about, and the way she treated – the way she treats …"

"Dallas?"

"No … no, not just him," I said loudly. "I mean, the way she treated you …"

Two-Bit chuckled. "Oh, now, I wouldn't worry about her effect on me too much, Susie. I can handle ol' Sylvia."

"She shouldn't be acting that way," I insisted. "It's … it's not ladylike."

Two-Bit was quiet a minute. "Well, I guess Sylvia ain't had the easiest life, Susie."

"Is that why she has such a trash-mouth," I said sullenly. I wasn't about to go feeling sorry for her right then.

Two-Bit grunted. "Sylvia's daddy was a rodeo man for a time, and works out at a dude ranch in Sand Springs now. I reckon that's where she learned to swear." His mouth twitched. "An' if you're still wondering about Dallas, I reckon riding around on that dude ranch is where she learned how to rope herself a wild animal, too."

"A dude ranch?" I couldn't help sounding surprised.

Two-Bit grinned. "Yeah, I know what you're thinking, and I'd have to agree: Sylvia sure don't look like no cowgirl, even if she is known for her riding abilities." He scratched his chin, looking thoughtful. "Though, I ain't never seen a picture of her from before high school, so who knows?"

I wasn't keen to get on the subject of Sylvia's looks. "Well, maybe she picked up her daddy's bad habits, but how come her momma ain't never yelled at her for talking like that?"

"Her momma'd have to yell pretty loud from wherever she's run off to."

I was quiet for a minute. I knew what it was like to be missing a parent, and I couldn't help the swell of sympathy I felt for Sylvia just then.

"You sure know a lot about people," I said finally.

Two-Bit chuckled. "Yeah, well, Kathy – my last girlfriend – she knew the score pretty well, and by score, I mean dirt. Every damn day with the gossiping – that girl could talk your ear off, no sweat. Learned more than I ever cared to know from her." He looked at me sideways. "You'd be surprised to know that most people of our kind who are missing a parent are generally luckier than those that got two."

"I don't think I've met a person with two parents yet," I said glumly.

"Steve's got two, but you wouldn't know it from how often his mom leaves her bedroom," Two-Bit said. "And Johnny – you met Johnnycakes?"

I nodded. "Last night, he come by the house. Didn't stay long, and didn't say much."

"Yeah, well, he don't like to, generally, and I can't see the presence of a pretty girl doing nothing to loosen his tongue. Anyway, he's another of those that might be better off losing a parent – or two, if you want the honest truth. Seems to me the only good couple a parents around were the Curtises, and, well …" He shook his head suddenly. "Listen to me, rambling on. Always did like to talk too much."

"Picked up some gossiping habits yourself, huh?" I joked.

He smiled, and I was glad. He had me feeling real down, talking about parents. "I don't gotta tell you, this ain't the sort of stuff to be talking about elsewhere."

"I'll keep it to myself," I agreed.

"It ain't like it's secret or nothing, but it ain't a good idea to bring it up with the people involved," he said seriously. "Not many people like to talk about their parents. Make for lousy dinner conversation, anyway."

We turned down the street the Curtises lived on. All the tiny houses and unkempt front yards were lit with the early evening light. I felt uneasy looking around at the state of things on that street. I was used to living on the wrong side of the tracks, but I'd never thought of my childhood home in Tulsa as being in the same situation as me and momma were in now. I'd always remembered the people and the fun we'd had, and it always seemed to me in those memories that we'd done alright. I'd never thought of us as being bad off in Tulsa until I'd come back. I hated to see the same memories I'd been so fond of come out looking so miserable now.


	7. Sexy Susie Swearz

**Chapter 7: Sexy Susie Swearz**

xxxx

**A/N:** I have plotted the rest of this, so updates should be regular from here on in. Emphasis on should. There's also another nod to the novel here; I didn't mean to do one per chapter lol, but here we are.

**Disclaimer:** S.E. Hinton owns everything except for her namesake. But, hell, if she wanted her, I'd probably give her up anyway.

xxxx

I'd worked a part-time job in a bakery before, but it hadn't prepared me in the least for the distress of waitressing. I knew now why momma always made sure we had enough money for good shoes – standing on your feet all day sure didn't make them feel good. I couldn't imagine what she must have felt like before I'd started working, standing around at the beauty parlour all day, and going off to waitress at night. After the first few days, I resolved to buy her a nice pair of slippers as a comfort.

As for the customers … well, I was used to being polite when I didn't want to be; every girl who fancies herself a "nice girl" at some point has to learn that skill. But darn it if the impatience of some of them didn't make me want to revert back to my ten-year-old self. I had to remind myself several times that if Sodapop the Terror could work the customers with grace, then so could I.

He and Steve had come by on their lunch break after I'd been working there a day, ordered two hamburgers and left me a nice tip. Steve had been plenty courteous, but Sodapop had earned a withering stare or two, and if I hadn't been so tired, he would have earned more.

"Well, now, I told you I could see you as a waitress," he'd said smugly. "But I can see now you were right – you're better suited to this job."

I'd been sweaty and tired and my feet had hurt, so I'd given him what for. "Sodapop, I am very busy, and I ain't in no mood to deal with your attitude, so if your mouth is feeling active, put it to good use on that hamburger and get on out so I can seat someone else."

Soda grinned. "I knew that good girl act was only hiding the real Susie. You're the same old girl."

"I ain't nothing like the mischievous child you're implying I was. You must be remembering yourself."

Soda just grinned wider. "Your accent's coming back Susie."

Steve nodded. "Sounding like a proper Tulsa girl again."

"Are you a proper Tulsa girl, Susie?"

I answered him back with a decidedly non-proper girl suggestion, which only made him and Steve laugh.

"You've got a ways to go before you're up to Sylvia's standard," Ginny had said wryly when I'd got back to the counter.

Sylvia and her 'gang' had been by every evening that I'd worked, just like Ginny had said they would. They weren't nearly as scary as Ginny had implied, but then again, they sure did pick on Ginny's dress and hair a lot. Ginny said it was only a matter of time before they started in on me.

The first Saturday that I'd been in Tulsa, I was working the morning shift at Gina's. I had the afternoon off, and then Sodapop had mentioned going to a drive-in downtown with Steve and the girls. Two-Bit had been there at the time – it seemed he was always at the Curtises' or visiting his sister at the diner – and he said it'd be worth going to and have a little fun. He had gallantly offered to go with me to keep me company, and I'd accepted. Being a third wheel wasn't no fun.

"Susie, get over here," Ginny called as I got in. A stout, curvy woman with flaming red hair was standing next to her, hands on hips. "Come on over and meet my momma."

I walked over nervously, hoping I looked alright.

"Hi, Mrs. Mathews," I said awkwardly. "I'm Susie Shipman, Soda Curtis's cousin."

"And well I remember you, Susie," Mrs. Mathews said, enveloping me in a warm hug. "Come on now! Why so formal? Anything changed about you has been reported in full by the walking mouth that is my son. And I certainly remember you from your childhood." She raised an eyebrow. "Still enjoy that strawberry ice cream, I hope?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said, laughing. "Just like Nancy Drew." She certainly reminded me of Two-Bit.

"It's good of you to take on this job," she said, tying an apron around her waist. "This'll be my last shift here, now that this little one's gone and got herself in shackles here, and Gina was worried about working the summer crowd all by her lonesome." She grinned, ruffling Ginny's hair. "Not that this one don't do a helluva good job on her own."

"I ain't no slacker," Ginny said.

"You got my working genes," Mrs. Mathews said proudly. "Looking at your brother, I'd say you got all of 'em. Your brother, he got my gift of gab instead."

She was right about that. Mrs. Mathews worked the morning shift almost entirely behind the counter, poring coffee and chatting for the locals, and keeping one eye on her daughter as Ginny ran around delivering breakfast. She was bolder than Momma and Aunt Jennie, but I remembered her joining them on occasion, when she wasn't working. Their get-togethers had always gotten louder and more boisterous with her around, and I couldn't help thinking she'd passed that talent along to Two-Bit as well.

Two-Bit had taken a liking to showing up around noon for breakfast, and today was no exception.

"Mornin' Susie, runt," he greeted me and Ginny, in between yawns.

"Ah, my son," Mrs. Mathews said loudly, lifting a coffeepot and coming over to us, "apple of my eye, hole in my pocket."

"Fly in your soup?" Two-Bit suggested, hopping up on a stool. "Could use some grub, Ma."

"Could use some manners too," she said tartly. "Say 'please' why don't you, Two-Bit."

Two-Bit grinned, and lowered his head meekly. "Yes, Ma."

She rolled her eyes and poured him some coffee. "Ginny'll have to help you out. I'm off duty now."

"Last days are good days," Two-Bit said, taking a swig of coffee.

"And how would you know? You ain't never worked a day."

"I did," Two-Bit said indignantly. "I worked one day, and seeing as I'm smarter than the average bear, that's all I needed to figure out that work ain't a good time. One day a work and then no more days – that's called a last day."

"You mouthing off any more to me than you've already done can also be called a 'last day'," Mrs. Mathews said, making a fist and shaking it teasingly at Two-Bit.

Me and Ginny laughed, and even Two-Bit cracked a grin. "You need a ride home, Ma?"

"Nah, got my own car, kid." She smacked him lightly on the back of his head. "You be good, or there's more where that came from."

Two-Bit grinned at me. "So how'd you like my old lady?"

"She's great. A lot of fun," I said sincerely. "She really reminds me of you."

Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow. "Does that mean you think I'm great?"

I almost laughed but a quick look up at his face and I realized he was seriously asking. He was looking at me so intently, I was caught off guard.

The door tinkled suddenly, and I was glad for the distraction. My relief was short-lived though, seeing who walked through the door.

"God, who does that bitch think she is? She doesn't fucking own me."

Sylvia stomped through the diner, stepped in behind the counter and dropped a pair of brown and white saddle shoes. They fell to the ground with a loud thwap.

"Whose are those?" I asked her pointedly.

She gave me a look like I was an idiot for asking. "Mine." She sniffed. "Sharon don't like me to wear heels, and Daddy won't do a damn thing to contradict her cuz he knows how much of a bitch she can be. So I gotta change to these outside."

She stepped back and showed me the three-and-a-quarter-inch-heel, brown, satin pumps she was wearing.

I gasped a little; I couldn't help it. I'd never seen a girl our age wearing heels like that even at a school dance. They set off her calves perfectly and made her feet look _tiny._ Sylvia wore them like they were part of her body.

She slipped one of her tiny feet out of the shoes and rubbed it. Even with the heels she was only about five foot five. Without them, she would have been way too short to be fashionable.

"Damn, these shoes kill my feet," she murmured.

"Well, of course they do, look how high they are!" said Ginny irritably.

"Why do you wear them if they hurt your feet," I said, confused.

Sylvia glared at us both. "Not the heels. _Those_ shoes hurt my feet." She nodded contemptuously at the saddle shoes. "I just can't walk in anything that's not sexy. It hurts me."

Ginny and Two-Bit broke out coughing.

I waited until she'd sat herself down at a table with her minions to ask Two-Bit who 'Sharon' was.

"Her stepmom, I think," he whispered back. "And don't go asking me that stuff. I ain't no town gossip."

"You're as good as," Ginny said loudly, walking past us with the fries.

Two-Bit made a violent shushing motion with his hands, and looked over his shoulder at Sylvia. He so looked the part of a nosey gossiper that I couldn't help laughing.

I worked into the afternoon, and Two-Bit stayed nearly as long, teasing Ginny and talking with me. The boy certainly could talk. Ginny was working a double shift, and I couldn't hardly see how she could do it. By the time I took off my apron I was exhausted.

"We're going to my place to get ready," Sylvia called out, just as I was finishing.

I hung up my apron slowly, suddenly realizing that I was supposed to look nice tonight. I'd be sitting next to those girls, and I'd be damned if I looked out of place. But how was I going to compete with Sylvia and those heels? I tried to think of my clothes back at the Curtises'. Surely I had something suitable … ?

Sylvia gave a dry cough that startled me. I turned around quickly to see her standing, hands on hips at the door. Evie and Sandy were outside waiting, watching us quizzically.

"Well, come on, can't you go no faster," she said tartly. "We ain't got much time to get looking nice."

It took me a second to realize she wanted me to go with them. I looked to Ginny, but she only shrugged and mouthed 'good luck' before turning back to the customers.

"Sorry," I said finally, grabbing my purse and hurrying to the door.

xxxx

Sylvia lived in a tiny house, just as small as the Curtises', but I was surprised to see how well kept it was. The front yard was bordered by a short little wooden fence instead of the wire ones most of the houses around it had, and the petunias were planted across the house front in neat little rows.

"Sharon likes to garden," Sylvia said, noticing my look. She stopped suddenly. "Oh, hell. I forgot." She pulled off one heel and looked to Evie. "Trade shoes with me, I left mine at Gina's."

Evie rolled her eyes. "You really think Sharon's gonna like mine any better?" She was wearing a pair of short black boots with a tiny heel.

Sylvia made a disgusted noise and looked at me. "Okay, you, give me yours."

I would have said no, only she really scared me.

Sylvia rolled her eyes at my white Keds, but I think she had the better deal. Her shoes were way too small for my feet, and I'd never been in heels like that before. I felt like a giant, tottering towards her house. A giant with pinched toes.

Sylvia flounced into the house, the three of us following behind. She didn't bother to call out hello, but lead us to the back of the tiny house and into her room. Just as she was shutting the door a voice called out to her, and she groaned.

"Sylvia? Is that you?"

"No, it's your other goddamn step-daughter," she muttered, and slipped from the room, half-closing the door behind her.

Sandy led me across the cosy room to the bed in the corner where we sat down. Evie flopped over a chair next to a tiny vanity. Sylvia's room was small, but clean and pretty. It was almost too pretty for how I imagined Sylvia, with the ruffled curtains and pink bedspread. The vanity, however, and what I could see of the closet contents, reeked of Sylvia's taste.

"Where have you been?" I heard an unfamiliar female voice from the next room.

"Out," came Sylvia's voice.

"And I suppose you're planning to go out again tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I hope to heaven you're not going to go out looking like a tramp again. A girl your age ought to dress respectable."

"Sylvia don't like her step-mother," Evie whispered. "I don't reckon Sharon holds a real high opinion of Sylvia either."

"She's a mean snob," Sandy said in an undertone. "Even if Sylvia do dress a little …"

The sudden sound of a slap stopped her mid-sentence.

"Don't you talk back to me, young lady!"

There was a short silence, and then Sylvia came storming back into the room. She kicked off my shoes and went directly to the closet, pulling out a short pleated red skirt and a short-sleeved white blouse that were obviously not school clothes.

"What do you think?" she demanded of Evie.

Evie sighed, then squared her shoulders. "I think you ain't got no damn fashion sense no more, Sylvia."

I was shocked that Evie would have been so insensitive after what we'd just heard, but Sylvia only flashed her a quick smile.

"Well, find me something better then."

Evie went to the closet and Sylvia took her place at the vanity. She gave me a hard look, as if daring me to say something. She relaxed slowly when I said nothing. "I'm surprised you ain't quaking in my shoes, sitting here with a bunch of greasy girls."

"Why would I be afraid," I said, though if I'd been there alone with Sylvia, I might have been.

"Cuz you're a little goody two-shoes," Sylvia said.

"I'm not!"

"Ain't you worried about hanging out with the bad girls?" Evie drawled.

"I … I can be bad." I'd never been so confused. I couldn't figure out how suddenly that was a desirable quality. Somehow, with these girls, bad was good.

"Can you?" Sylvia moved to the bed, her eyes gleaming strangely. "You remind me too much of her." She jerked her head at Sandy, who rolled her eyes. "No drinking, no smoking, no swearing-"

"I can too swear," I protested. "Just the other day, Sodapop was bothering me and I swore at him just fine."

Sylvia raised an eyebrow while Sandy hid a smile.

"What'd you say then?"

"Oh, I gave him what for," I said confidently. "I told him to go to hell."

Sylvia gave me a long look. "Well, honey, that makes you about as bad as a Soc girl."

"Don't listen to her," Sandy cut in. "Greaser girls can be nice girls, too."

"Get off your high horse, Sandy," Evie said gleefully. "I heard you swear worse than that before."

"Don't interfere here, we're trying to give the girl an education," Sylvia agreed.

Sandy shrugged and gave me a helpless look. "Well, I guess it can't hurt to know."

Sylvia nodded slowly and gave me a sly smile. "First things first – bad girls need red lipstick."

Evie had opened a drawer at Sylvia's vanity and was rummaging around in it. She pulled out a handful of tubes of lipstick – three or four different ones. I couldn't imagine what on earth Sylvia would need all of those tubes for, or where'd she'd gotten them.

"You want some Sandy?" Evie offered her the tubes.

"No," Sandy said irritably. It was the first I'd seen her not looking perfectly pleasant, and it surprised me a little. "I keep telling you, I ain't out to look like a tramp." She pulled out a tiny case from her purse and extracted her own lipstick. When she put it on, I couldn't see a difference, but it obviously suited her liking.

Evie shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"You know, Sandy," Sylvia drawled, grabbing at one of the lipsticks. "It ain't like you're gonna get your cherry popped just putting on a red lipstick."

"I'm beautiful without it, thanks," Sandy said tartly. She snapped shut her makeup case and leaned back against the bed. "I don't need that kind of paint, and neither do you."

I looked at Sandy in surprise. She was so sweet and yielding most of the time, I wouldn't have believed she'd speak like that to Sylvia.

"Afraid to be one of us, huh," Sylvia said under her breath.

"I'm not looking to take after my momma, are you?" Sandy said sharply.

"If the fucking shoe fits, Sandra Dee," Sylvia said bitterly.

There was a short silence. I had the feeling this was an old argument.

Evie cleared her throat, looking uneasily between Sylvia and Sandy. It was the first I'd seen her looking uncomfortable; she was normally so confident.

Evie poked Sandy. "You're so old-fashioned," she teased gently. "But something must be working since you snagged that Sodapop."

Sylvia grunted, which I guess meant she agreed, and Sandy's face relaxed slowly into the pleasant smile she normally seemed to wear.

"Well, Susie," Sylvia said, holding up the lipstick. "You looking for a Sodapop, too? Or something a little more fun?"

I hesitated for a second; I'd always thought of myself as following Sandy's line of thought. Then I looked at Sylvia, with her pale powdered face and dark-shadowed eyes and I thought of the way Dallas looked at her.

"I'll try it," I said timidly, and Sylvia nodded her approval.

"Do this," she commanded, making an "O" with her lips.

"You gonna need the eyeshadow?" Evie asked. She'd streaked her eyelids up to her brow with a light blue shadow.

"No, she'll do better with dark eyes," Sylvia replied. "Classic."

"I think she'd look good in blue. That's the style," Evie said confidently, holding the colour up to my face. Then she peered in closer. "Good Lord girl, ain't you never plucked your eyebrows?"

I looked at her in surprise, and she held up a mirror. "Look!"

I couldn't see anything wrong with my eyebrows, but then Sylvia appeared beside my reflection, peering over my shoulder. In spite of her perfectly-set, golden blonde hair, each eyebrow was a skinny, baked-apple brown arch, perfectly shaped above each piercing eye.

"Huh," she said. "This'll need work. Get to, Evie."

"Right-o," Evie said, and picked up the tweezers.

Sylvia moved over to her vanity mirror and picked up a scary-looking metal eyelash curler. I watched warily as she brought it up to her face. It looked like she was about to pop out her own eye.

"Ouch!"

"Oh, suck it up," Evie said, pulling out another hair. "Greaser girls is supposed to be tough. Even Sandy can deal with it."

"I'm plenty tough," Sandy said wearily. "I don't gotta prove it with the colour of my lips."

"Don't start that again," Evie warned.

My eyes were watering so terribly when she'd finished, I could hardly see the clothes that Sylvia had pulled out for me.

"You better wear a skirt. There ain't no way you're going to fit into my pants, towering like you do."

I was maybe two inches taller than her.

"Too bad," Evie said, wriggling into a pair of hiphuggers. "This is the style now."

Sylvia rolled her eyes. "I don't care what the fucking style is – what boy is going to think you're good-looking when you're wearing the same thing he is?"

Evie scowled. "You belong in the last damn century, Sylvia."

Sylvia shrugged, and held out the clothes to me. "Put this on."

It seemed a fairly normal-looking skirt and blouse when I first took it from her, but when I'd put it on, the skirt edge stopped a good three inches above the knee.

"Perfect," Sylvia crowed. "You'll have him in no time."

"Him?"

The sound of banging on the windowsill startled us all. I whirled around to see Dallas pushing open the window into Sylvia's bedroom. He looked mildly surprised to see us all, but he sure didn't avert his gaze.

"What are you doing here?" Sylvia hissed, hurrying to the window. "The bitch is home."

"What do you think I'm doing here," he said, with a roguish grin.

"Why don't you take off, Dallas," Evie said, hands on hips. "This is girls only right now. We're getting dressed for Chrissake."

"I can see that," he said, looking over at me.

I felt a thrill as his eyes travelled up and down me, taking in the skirt and blouse that were so obviously more Sylvia's style than mine.

"Don't you look good tonight."

Sylvia made an impatient noise and reached over to push him out. "Get lost, hood!"

"Aw, baby, you know you look good, too," he teased, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her close.

"Get out, or this is all you'll see of me tonight," she snapped, but then leaned in to kiss him.

It certainly wasn't no dry peck, but neither Evie nor Sandy said anything about it. Sylvia pulled away and gave Dally's shoulder a shove, which barely moved him. He sure didn't seem like he wanted to leave.

"Go!"

"I'm going, I'm going," he said thickly, and slid back out the window. I heard him curse as he stumbled away from the house.

Sylvia sighed, staring out the window after him. "That boy gets more cocky every damn day."

Sandy nudged me, taking my attention away from Sylvia. "You want to be careful," she murmured, "that you don't go attracting the same type." She fingered the edge of my borrowed skirt. "It's already too easy for girls like us to give boys the wrong idea without doing nothing but living where we do."

I didn't know what she was talking about. All I knew was that all Sandy had caught the eye of was my evil brat of a cousin's, while Sylvia had caught Dallas's.


	8. The Must See Drive In

**Chapter 8: The Must-See Drive-In**

xxxx

**A/N:** This chapter is a little bit soapy. I think it works, natch, since I'm posting it, but if you don't agree, please don't hesitate to tell me!

No nod to the novel this time, but a little tongue-in-cheek humour about Susie's, er, let's call it an "archetype". Alright, "stereotype".

**Disclaimer:** S.E. Hinton wrote and owns "The Outsiders" and anything associated with it. I make no monies.

xxxx

"You look different."

I looked sideways at Two-Bit, but he was staring determinedly at the road ahead. He and Steve had brought their cars around to Sylvia's and we had all of us piled into the two cars on our way down to a drive-in called The Nightly Double.

"You think I look bad?" I asked tentatively.

Two-Bit shook his head, still stubbornly refusing to look at me. "Didn't say that. You just look different."

"You don't like it."

"Don't listen to him," Dallas hollered from the backseat. "You look damn fine like that."

Sylvia giggled. "Not as good as me, I hope."

Dallas didn't respond, but there was a good deal of rustling and more giggling. I didn't have to look behind me to know what was going on.

Two-Bit made a sharp turn, and I heard a dull thud as Dallas went crashing across the backseat into the car door.

"Jesus," Dally cursed. "Take it easy, willya, Two-Bit?"

"Why don't you sit in your own damn seat then, Dallas," Two-Bit said quietly.

Dally leaned forward, draping his arms across the front seat. "Cuz I like hers better." He took a swig from a bottle he was holding wrapped in a paper bag, and then shook it at me. "You want?"

"Sure," I said timidly, and earned myself a smirk from him.

"Good for you, kid," he said, as I took a sip. It burned all the way down, but it wasn't a terrible feeling.

Two-Bit shook his head. "Look at you, drinking shit outta a paper bag. A week ago you wouldn't even touch a beer at Buck's."

"I learn fast," I said, and took another sip. Dallas laughed appreciatively and I felt another kind of warmth burning in my stomach.

Two-Bit grunted. "Give it here." He took a swig and passed it back to Dallas.

"You know," Dally said, musingly. "You really oughtta dress like that more often, Susie. Makes you look tuff."

I gave him my best smile. His face was lightly flushed, and he was certainly more friendly than usual. I was sure he was at least a little bit drunk already. But I appreciated his attention all the same, even if he was looking at me in an un-gentlemanly manner.

Sylvia leaned forward as well, and plucked at my shirt. "You like it, Dal?" As if a compliment to me was really one to her.

Dallas grinned. "She looks almost as good as you do."

Sylvia slapped his arm, and they disappeared again.

"See, they think I look good," I said to Two-Bit.

Two-Bit laughed. "Dallas ain't well known for his taste in skirts."

"I prefer my girls without 'em," Dallas agreed.

I laughed along with Sylvia and Two-Bit, although I didn't really find it funny. I was quiet the rest of the way, trying to digest the insult Two-Bit has thrown at me so casually. I wondered if he'd really meant it.

Dallas and Two-Bit paid our way into the drive-in, though I offered the cash I had. Momma always told me not to depend on the kindness of men – they too often wanted too high a return payment. I figured I was safe with the boys I was with though.

We had a time trying to get past the entrance booth. Dallas was hiding the bottle of booze between his legs, and Sylvia kept breaking out into peals of laughter over it. Dallas would shush her, alternately scowling and swearing and trying to look innocent. If I'd been the attendant I would have been plenty suspicious, too.

When we finally did get in, we pulled up next to Steve's car at the parking lot. Neither Steve and Evie, nor Soda and Sandy showed any inclination towards watching the movie on the big screen. Sandy was deep in conversation with Soda – about what, I couldn't imagine. Evie and Steve were a dark mass in the backseat that I didn't so much care to look at.

"Hey, Two-Bit, hey girls," Sandy called to us, giving a tiny girlish wave.

"Where the fuck is my 'hello'?" Dally yelled. Sylvia laughed and gave him a shove. Now that I could turn around and see them, I was sure she'd managed to get a little drunk as well on the car-ride.

Sandy looked at him warily. "Hello, Dallas."

Dallas sat up straight and, in a formal tone that made him almost unrecognizable, said, "Hello, Sandra."

Sylvia burst out laughing.

I looked at her in surprise. I couldn't imagine what on earth was so funny. Dallas was looking at her, too, and when he looked away, his gaze met mine. He smiled at me and gave a tiny half-shrug, and my heart began to pound.

"Crazy broad, always laughing at nothing," he said affectionately. He pulled Sylvia in towards him, but he was still looking at me.

"Oh, come on now," Sylvia snapped. She stopped laughing suddenly and pushed him away, sitting upright. "You can't insult me and expect me to press up against you like that. I ain't crazy."

Dally smirked, and leaned in towards her. "You're a _little_ crazy."

Sylvia pushed him away again and turned towards the window.

There was a short pause, and then Dallas shrugged. "Suit yourself."

It didn't take him hardly two seconds to be out the door and gone.

Sylvia stared after him, breathing hard. I looked away. I couldn't fool myself – I was a little happy to see them fight. But I felt awful bad for Sylvia at the same time.

"Christ, he's gone already? He's getting faster," Steve drawled, coming up for air and noticing Dallas had left.

"I always heard Dallas was quick on the draw."

Sylvia had been pouting, her hands clenched into fists at her side, but she relaxed again in an instant, putting a saucy smile on her lips. "Well, if it isn't the devil himself."

I looked up and there was James Dean. Although, up close, I had to admit, he looked quite a bit different. He had a long scar down the side of his face, and a cunning look about him that was all his own. All the same, I felt a thrill like I was sitting next to a movie star. He slouched just the same as Jimmy Dean.

"Girl like you shouldn't be sitting all alone," he drawled.

"Without even a coke to keep me company," Sylvia replied, fluttering her eyelashes.

"I can fix that."

And just like that, she was gone, too.

"Good grief," Two-Bit groaned. He looked at me and smiled a little. "You see what I mean? You ain't cut out for being like that. You ain't got enough crazy in you. Don't know why you'd even want to try."

Sodapop suddenly leaned in the open window on Two-Bit's side, before I could reply. "What's up with you kids?"

I shrugged. "Nothing."

Soda looked at Two-Bit then back at me and raised his eyebrows.

"Look, I'm sorry," Two-Bit said suddenly. "I just liked you the way you were. I didn't think you needed to go changing yourself for nobody else's reasons. Least of all to impress the person I think you're trying to impress, who, if I you'll excuse me for saying, ain't done nothing to make him deserving to kiss your feet much less nothing else."

I was speechless. I hadn't seen him looking so serious, almost aggravated. It made me so mad, him thinking he had the right to say something like that.

Soda looked surprised. "Ain't happy with your company, Two-Bit?"

Two-Bit shifted uncomfortably. "No. It ain't like that."

Soda grinned. "Oh, I know it ain't like that." He winked at me. "Believe you me, Susie, he may talk like he don't appreciate that skirt on you, but he do."

"Oh, hell," Two-Bit said, turning red. "I didn't mean-"

"What do you think?" I asked, looking at Sodapop. "You hate this on me, too?"

He rubbed his head, looking embarrassed. "Well, Susie, it ain't exactly the kind of thing you've been wearing for the past week. You sure don't look comfortable. You do look awful pretty though."

"Thank you," I said triumphantly.

Sandy's face appeared over her shoulder. "You looked plenty pretty before, too." She smiled mischievously at Two-Bit. "Didn't you think she looked pretty before, Two-Bit?"

"She looked pretty," he mumbled. "More pretty than she does now."

"What do you care?" I said defensively. "You're the one who always insists on swearing and dirty-talking in front of me. You ain't treated me like a lady, so why worry if I dress like one?"

Two-Bit looked surprised. "Well, hell, I didn't know it bothered you."

"It didn't. And I can't see why me dressing like this oughtta bother you."

Two-Bit gave me another once over. "Well, it don't if it's really what you want. But Susie … I mean, maybe you ain't no stuck-up lady, but you ain't exactly tough like them other girls."

I glared at him. I couldn't see how it was his place to try and judge me. "Well, where am I then, since you're so opinionated."

"You know the score, but you know how to be soft like a girl, too. You're tough enough where it counts but you ain't …" he cast a look at the backseat where Sylvia had been, "… prickly."

I shook my head. He was just making me madder. "I thought you asked me here because you're my friend, not to insult you."

"You thought I asked you here because I'm you're friend," he repeated. He sighed, looking frustrated. "That's what you thought, huh? Well, as your _friend_ shouldn't I warn you when you're looking foolish? You surprised me, Susie."

"Two-Bit," Soda started, but I didn't need his help.

"Well, excuse me for not living up to your expectations. I knew you were rough, but you've always been a gentleman before now. You surprised me, too."

And it surprised me how much his low opinion hurt.

I opened the door to his car with some difficulty and climbed out. I didn't have nowhere else to go, and I couldn't find my way back home to the Curtises' from there. I resolved to just to take a walk around and cool down a little.

I made my way to the concession stand. There was a long line of kids outside, and I was conscious of several of them looking at me. I tugged at the skirt, trying to make it a little longer, and tried not to think about how uncomfortable I was in Sylvia's clothes. I didn't want to think that Two-Bit might be right.

"Well, now, I _know_ you're a lady, and a real lady can't be waiting by her lonesome just to pay for her own popcorn."

I sighed and turned away. I didn't think he'd follow so quickly.

"Well, Miss Susie? If I apologize, will you allow me to buy you an ice-cream?" Two-Bit poked me gently in the arm.

I shook my head and said nothing. I heard him sigh.

"Oh, heck, it just don't remind me of you," Two-Bit said. "Dressing like this, drinking," he gave me a furtive look, "flirting with Dallas. All that don't seem like you."

I folded my arms across my chest. "Well, maybe you don't know me all that well."

"Maybe." Two-Bit fiddled with his shirt, not looking at me. "Didn't mean to make you upset."

We stood in silence for awhile, inching closer to the popcorn machine.

"How come you like him so much?" he asked finally.

"Who?"

"Aw, you know who." He grinned at me, and I felt my ill-humour slip away. There was just something about his smile that made everyone else want to smile, too. "The gentleman in the backseat with the excellent manners and love of seatbelts. Now, I know you don't like him cuz he's the strong, dark, silent type."

"I don't like him."

"Sure you do." Two-Bit dug the toe of his tennis shoe absently into the gravel. "I reckon that's why you're acting all strange."

I pulled at the skirt again, trying to make it look longer. I didn't want to admit it, but I couldn't lie to him either, so I said nothing.

"Is it cuz he's such a sweet-talker?"

I bit my lip. He was going to make me laugh in spite of myself.

"Or cuz he's such a snappy dresser?" Two-Bit snapped his fingers suddenly. "Ah, I know, it's his poetry. Gets all the girls. He's got this one about a girl from Nantucket …"

I burst out laughing.

"Hey now," Two-Bit protested. "Don't you go laughing when he recites it. You'll hurt his delicate sensibilities."

I'm sure the others in line thought the pair of us were crazy the way we were laughing, but it was the best I'd felt all night.

"It's alright, you know," Two-Bit said casually when we'd calmed down. "All the girls like Dallas."

"Really?"

"Well, no, I was lying. Mostly they don't like him, but he'd like to think they do."

"Let's pretend, then."

"Alright," he agreed. "Well, there are these masses of girls that adore him, nay, love him, all of 'em beautiful, young, long-haired blondes with sharp tongues and mysterious eyes. He could bed 'em with a simple come-hither look, which, unfortunately for him, he don't know how to do. But should he figure it out, there'd be a happy couple of seconds in it for him and these masses of imaginary, non-existent, unreal, make-believe girls. He's a lucky man, Dallas."

I rolled my eyes, but as usual, I couldn't help giggling.

"And all of 'em wear the same clothes and talk and act the same way trying to get his attention. Generally that way isn't so much in their real nature, but more, as the French say, _trash-ay_." Two-Bit leaned close, confidentially. "But the kicker is, they all try and act that way trying to be like a girlfriend he treats like shit."

I was quiet a minute. I knew between the jokes he was talking about me, and in spite of his humour, there was a lot of truth to what he was saying.

"Not that she don't treat him the same, but I reckon you deserve something better."

"He's not all bad," I said softly. I looked at Two-Bit quickly. I couldn't quite place the reason why, but I felt guilty all of a sudden. I had to explain.

"When we was kids," I started, feeling my cheeks warm, "we used to spend the whole summer running around all the time getting into trouble. It was mostly me and Sodapop, but sometimes he would be there, too." I couldn't bring myself to say Dallas' name.

"I reckon you got into worse trouble during those times," Two-Bit said wryly.

"It was always more fun though. This one time," I took a breath, "the summer before he left Tulsa, it was just him and me, and we were eating popsicles we'd snuck outta Momma's freezer. That as good as made us best friends in those days. He told me he was gonna have to leave, and this was the last I'd see of him, and that it was my duty as the girl to give him a proper goodbye."

"Weasely shit. Even at that age."

"Well, he did ask nicely."

"Lemme guess. He said: "Do you wanna?""

I laughed. "Something like that." I fiddled with edge of Sylvia's blouse. "Anyway, it was just a tiny kiss, and honestly, I was as curious as him." I sighed. "I know it's dumb, I know we was just kids, and neither of us knew what on earth we was doing except that we'd seen a grown-up do it before. But that's how I remembered him and when I saw him again, well … we ain't kids no more. I know it's dumb," I repeated.

"It ain't dumb," Two-Bit said quietly. "If you like him, you like him."

"And you see, he ain't all bad."

"No," Two-Bit said grudgingly. "He ain't. I mean, he's my buddy." He stared away into the distance, lost in thought, and then gave a long sigh. "Yeah, I guess he's my buddy."

We didn't say anymore until we'd gotten popcorn, but he stopped me as we were walking back to the car.

"Listen," he said seriously. "You ain't gonna get nowhere with Dallas acting like Sylvia. She's got that down easy, but it don't help her none. He ain't a gentleman by nature, and I don't reckon he'll change, but if I were to give him the benefit of the doubt … shit, well, I wouldn't, let's just leave it at that. And if you're really a lady, which I'm afraid I think you are, you'll at least wait until they're broken up again before you go trying to show him all the reasons why you're a better catch. I promise if you're staying through the next week even, you'll get plenty of chances."

I smiled. "You're giving me dating advice, now?"

He sighed, shoving his fists into his jacket. "Yeah. Well, that's what friends are for."


	9. Susie the PuppetMaster

**Chapter 9: Susie the Puppet-Master**

xxxx

**A/N:** I suppose I oughtta be careful, and warn you all that in this chapter I allude to certain adult acts. Nothing graphic at all, or past the T rating, but I'll warn you just the same.

**Disclaimer:** S.E. Hinton owns Dallas and Sodapop and Two-Bit, and all the other characters who I torture at some point in this fic.

xxxx

I had mixed feelings the next day, going out in my own clothes instead of Sylvia's. I instantly felt more comfortable, but then I wondered if Dallas would ever look at me in my simple skirt and blouse and say the things he had the night before.

Me and Ponyboy went to church the next morning; I was shocked to find out that neither Sodapop nor Darry went to church anymore. Sodapop had shrugged and said he'd never understood anything the preacher said anyway, and he said his prayers on his own just fine. Darry had been sound asleep when we'd left; he sure had been looking exhausted, and I couldn't imagine Jesus would fault him for the extra hours of sleep when he'd done so much good already for his family.

Ponyboy was an awful quiet kid, but I asked him a few questions as we walked along, and he slowly warmed up to me. I found out he was doing real well in school and in track. By the time we'd reached the church he was chattering away about the books he wanted to read, and whether I thought he might grow a build for football like Darry had. I worked out that he wasn't so much shy as he just liked to listen more than talk.

We were among the last to go in the tiny chapel, which suited me just fine. I'd dressed as best I could, but these community churches were like families, and I was sure that everyone would be staring at me, wondering who the poor newcomer was who didn't even own a pair of Sunday shoes. Ponyboy was dressed in slacks and a white short-sleeved shirt that looked awful itchy, but even he was still wearing his tennis shoes and hair grease. I imagined we made a very ill-looking pair.

We were just about to go in when Ponyboy was halloed by someone. Up came the dark-haired boy I'd seen twice before, but barely spoken to. He was wearing rough looking slacks that looked like they'd been through the mill and a black tee-shirt, and I was shocked to see he meant to come in with us looking like that.

"Hey, Johnny," Pony said easily. "Joining us?"

"If you don't mind," he said, looking at me nervously.

"Of course not," I said politely, though I worried a little he wasn't dressed appropriately. But I supposed I wasn't dressed all that fine, either, and shouldn't be one to judge. "We'd be glad for your company."

Once we'd gone in, I forgot all about clothes though. Johnny, Ponyboy and I certainly weren't the only ones dressed down, and no one seemed to care. It was so darn hot in that church, I reckoned a person would have boiled to death wearing a proper suit.

The sanctuary was stifling, and the service was certainly different than what I was used to in my quiet hometown church. There was a good deal more murmurings and "amens" from the congregation, and the Reverend kept banging his hands and shouting things like he was a Baptist preacher. Ponyboy and Johnny had grinned at my baffled expression, and Ponyboy leaned over to whisper that he reckoned no one minded if the churches crossed over a little, so long as they were in the same church as their friends from the community. Johnny added that people were probably more inclined to come there than go to the Baptist church a couple blocks away, on account of the lemon squares and apple tarts the Reverend's wife was prone to bringing to the reception.

The service was so long, I couldn't pay attention nearly as well as I should have. I found myself looking amongst the congregation, seeing if I recognized any faces. I'd been looking at a head of the most perfectly styled blonde curls for a few minutes before I realized with a start that it was Sylvia, sitting with her hands folded demurely in her lap. Beside her was a lanky man in his forties with a shock of dark blond hair. He held a cowboy hat in his hands, and was turning it over and over as he listened to the Reverend. Beside Sylvia on her other side was a woman with dark brown hair who looked nothing like Sylvia. I assumed she must be Sylvia's stepmother, Sharon. She was sitting with her back straight, her eyes focused on the Reverend, apparently absorbed in whatever he was saying.

I caught Sylvia's eye and she raised an eyebrow at me, glanced at the Reverend and crossed her eyes. I smiled back, wondering how her parents managed to corral her long enough to get in a church wearing a decent, ankle-length skirt.

When the service was over, there was a surge to get outside where there was at least a breeze to cool us, and some lemonade and desserts as a reward for having paid our respects to the Lord. Me and Ponyboy and Johnny were near the back close to the door, but the Reverend slowed things up by insisting on shaking the hand of everyone as they left, his wife positioned smiling at his side, directing people to the refreshments.

I felt a bump against my arm and looked back to see that Sylvia had caught up with us. "God," she muttered under her breath, "was that not the most boring thing you've ever sat through?"

I would have agreed, but I didn't think it too smart to insult God in his own house.

"Sylvia?" someone called.

She took my arm and fairly dragged me back with her. "Meet my daddy. Daddy this is Susie, the Curtises' cousin from Wyoming."

Her father was the lanky cowboy. He nodded at me, though I could plainly see he had no idea who the Curtises were, nor did he seem to care. He had a distracted look about him, and fidgeted slightly where he stood. I'd seen that look on many a man in Wyoming; it was the look of a man itching to get back outside and get on with the horses, the cattle, repairs – anything that had to do with being outside and using his own two hands.

I'd seen that look recently, and I realized suddenly it had been on Dallas, right before he'd jumped out of Two-Bit's car.

"Tell you what, I'm gonna go out the back way," he said suddenly. "I'll see you for dinner, honey." He kissed dark-haired woman clinging to his arm.

Sylvia frowned. "You're leaving?"

"Got work to do."

"Horses?" she asked eagerly. I remembered what Two-Bit said about her not seeming like a cow-girl at all, and I wondered if she had another side to her that she didn't show in town.

"Not today. Maybe tomorrow, princess," her father said absently, putting a hand affectionately on her arm. "You go on and run around with your friends today and have some fun."

"You ought to ask your daughter what she's planning on doing today," Sharon said dryly. "She won't tell me a darn thing."

Sylvia smiled innocently at her stepmother, but I could see the hate burning in her eyes.

"Alright, what you planning, Sylvia," her father said distractedly. It was plain he couldn't have cared less.

"Evie and Sandy are coming over," she said obediently. "We're gonna bake cookies."

I stared at her in disbelief. Seeing my look, she added, "Oh, Susie's coming, too." She paused, her gaze taking in my clothes, and I saw a spark of the real Sylvia in her expression. "_After_ she changes."

"That's fine," he said, and left in a hurry. Sylvia watched him go with an unreadable expression.

"Sylvia, come," Sharon said sharply. "Better you stay at home than go running around a ranch like a wildebeest."

Sylvia shot her an irritated look. "There ain't no damn wildebeests on a ranch."

Sharon gripped Sylvia's arm so tightly I was sure she'd bruise it, and shook her hard. "Don't you swear in God's house, you little tramp. If you won't learn some manners on your own, I got an idea on how to teach you. And it don't involve your father spoiling you anymore than he has already."

Sylvia gave her a stony look. Sharon still had a grip on her arm, but if it hurt her, Sylvia didn't give it away. She turned suddenly to me. "Come over after lunch," she ordered. "I'll see you later."

I hurried away from her as quickly as I could, and got back to Ponyboy and Johnny. I knew a dismissal when I heard one.

xxxx

"You're actually baking cookies?" Two-Bit said in happy disbelief.

"Mmhmm," I said into the telephone. "I'll bring you some if they ever get made."

"From Sylvia's kitchen?"

"Yup."

"No, thanks."

I laughed. When I'd got to Sylvia's house, I'd found them hiding from Sharon in Sylvia's tiny kitchen. Sylvia was sitting on the countertop, eating icing from a tin and Sandy was on the kitchen telephone, talking to Sodapop. Evie had put an apron on over a pair of short-shorts and a black checked shirt she'd tied up around her waist, and was just putting the first perfect batch into the oven as we spoke.

I couldn't possibly deny Two-Bit the happiness of at least hearing about that.

"Evie's doing the baking," I informed him. "And they should actually taste good."

"Damn straight," Evie hollered, closing the over door with her hip. "I know how to bake a damn good cookie." She hopped up beside Sylvia and scooped a finger-full of icing from the tin. "It's part of my many, many, _many_ womanly attributes," she said smugly, and put her finger in her mouth.

"Don't be crass," Sandy said, but she was laughing.

"Yeah, besides," Sylvia said, snatching the icing tin back from Evie, "we all know who here has perfected the most important womanly attributes."

"Well, they do say that practice makes perfect, and you've had the most," Evie said, batting her eyelashes.

All three of them seemed to find this hilarious, and even though I felt a little embarrassed, I couldn't help giggling along with them.

Two-Bit chuckled over the phone. "Sounds like I don't want to hear the rest of that conversation."

"No," I agreed.

"But you'll tell me later?"

"Maybe," I said. "If you're nice to me."

I hung up the phone, and turned back to the girls. Sylvia was looking at me smugly, and I knew I was in for something.

"So," she said. "I suppose it's too early for you to have properly gotten to know anyone here." She flicked her gaze to the phone and smirked. "But I don't reckon you've got much knowledge about any boy back where you come from either, have you?"

I looked at her, confused. "You mean, have I dated anyone?"

"I mean, do you know how to get a boy's interest."

I shrugged. "Sure. I suppose it's something to do with looking nice, and having good conversation."

"Oh, boy," Sandy sighed. "Do we have news for you."

"A man is interested in one thing from a woman," Evie said importantly. "I don't reckon you know the first thing about what that is."

I sighed. "I ain't stupid."

"Well, it sure don't have nothing to do with conversation," Evie said tartly.

Sylvia studied me carefully. "No," she said slowly. "I don't reckon you're too far off, Susie."

We all looked at her in surprise. She shrugged.

"To my knowledge," she started.

"You mean, in your experience," Evie muttered.

"Watch your fucking mouth," Sylvia said irritably. "I ain't no whore just cuz I know what part goes where."

Evie shut up, looking annoyed.

I couldn't quite account for Sylvia's irritation; she seemed awfully keen to prove her knowledge, and hinted terribly about how she'd acquired it. Still … I'd yet to hear her actually admit to having slept with Dallas. She sure didn't seem too worried about the truth.

"There is nothing so simple on this earth as a man," Sylvia said easily. "All it really takes to get most of them interested is a hint towards touching them between the knees."

I blushed at her words; Sylvia spoke freely and candidly and didn't seem the least bit embarrassed. Evie on the other hand looked like she might burst into giggles at any moment and Sandy was stubbornly refusing to look anywhere but at the floor.

"She's right," Evie agreed, grinning like crazy.

Sylvia continued: "But I guess what that amounts to, for a decent girl," Sandy snorted, "is looking sexy and talking sexy. So, you were close," she told me.

Sandy sighed. "Only if you want all the boys thinking you're easy."

Sylvia looked annoyed. "I ain't saying act that way all the time. But if you want a guy to know you're interested, just in case there _is_ someone," she looked at me and smirked, "then you got to appeal to his _good side_, you know? Or he won't never get a clue. A man is about as subtle as a kick in the head."

I digested that. It wasn't pretty, but it was true enough in my case. Dallas wasn't going to look twice at me when Sylvia was around looking like she did and talking like she did. I had to get to him alone, and then, somehow, I had to let him know he had choices.

"Susie's not looking to go sleeping her way around town," Sandy said exasperatedly.

Sylvia glared at her. "And I am?"

Evie shrugged. "Not so much, but you ain't exactly chaste."

"Let's get one thing straight," Sylvia said loudly. "I don't do shit with no one unless I decide he's worth it."

"Like Dallas Winston?" Sandy said incredulously.

"He's the baddest kid in Tulsa, and _I'm_ the one that tamed him," Sylvia said proudly. "He's worth keeping around."

There was dead silence in the tiny kitchen. You could almost feel all the things unsaid.

Sylvia fiddled with the icing tin. "Don't you think so?" she demanded suddenly, turning on me. "Don't you think he's worth it?"

I looked at her, bewildered. Of course I thought Dallas was worth it. How could his own girlfriend doubt his worth?

More and more I was thinking that she was wrong for him.

"Yes, he's worth it," I said quickly. "He's a catch for sure."

The tension in the room suddenly evaporated, and Sylvia gave me a radiant smile.

"That's right," she said, grinning, and tossed her hair a few times.

It was at that moment, seeing how relieved Sylvia looked to have someone else admire Dallas, that I knew just how I was going to get some time alone with him – with Sylvia's blessing.

"Although," I started slowly, "you're so beautiful," Sylvia smirked, "I would have thought that you'd pick someone better looking."

Sylvia raised her eyebrows. "You don't think he's good looking?"

I bit my lip. "Well, he's … rough looking."

"_Dirty_," Sandy added, looking approving.

"He's awful skinny," Evie giggled. "And he ain't got the best clothes."

"Or," I paused, and sent up an apology to the Lord for lying on the Sabbath, "the best hair."

Sylvia let out a tiny gasp.

"Maybe it's just cuz my momma's a hairdresser," I said casually, hoping I didn't sound as nervous as I felt. "She taught me a lot about the styles and all."

Sylvia was studying me with narrowed eyes. "That right."

"Yeah." I shrugged. "I mean, Dallas ain't _bad_, but he ain't exactly a doll. And I reckon it's got something to do with that awful hairstyle."

Sylvia stiffened. "Awful?"

"It's bad enough he's a towhead," I continued, crossing my fingers behind my back. I wouldn't change his hair-colour for anything. "But he lets it grow out so long without hardly combing it or greasing it back. It just looks messy, like a pile of straw on his head." I looked at Sylvia innocently. "Don't you think?"

Sylvia smiled and laughed, but I could tell she was furious. But she couldn't disagree; Sandy and Evie were nodding along with what I'd said.

"He does need a haircut," Evie agreed. "Always seems to, in fact."

"I don't mind blonds," Sylvia said giggling. "But a little grease or something would darken it a little. He's had that hair colour since he was a little kid. It ain't exactly grown-up."

Sylvia's eyes were narrowed to slits, and the smile on her face looked almost menacing. She wasn't fooling no one, but neither Sandy nor Evie seemed afraid she would get mad. She was too proud for that. All the same, we all could tell Sylvia couldn't stand the idea of anyone thinking little of _her_ Dallas. She was taking it just like we was laughing at her.

Sylvia just couldn't stand not to have the best toy on the playground.

"I guess he just don't care so much about his looks," she said finally, examining his fingernails. "He's a man through and through; more worried about fighting and drinking than the state of his clothes. You know how _men_ get."

"Sure," I agreed. "I guess it's just too bad none of your style and sense rubbed off on him."

For a second I'd thought I'd gone to far – Sandy gave me an absolutely petrified look. But then Evie burst out laughing.

"She's got you there," Evie said. "How come you ain't trained him up to look nice for you?"

"Dallas is wild, everyone knows that," Sylvia said through gritted teeth.

Sandy grinned; she'd relaxed the instant that Evie had started laughing, and I could tell she was just loving bugging Sylvia about Dallas. She seemed to disapprove of Sylvia half the time, and I _knew_ she disapproved of Dallas.

"But you _are_ the one that tamed him," Sandy said smugly. "Ain't that what you said? You ought to be able to get him to at least cut his hair properly."

Sylvia stood up suddenly, her eyes glittering. The challenge had been issued, and we all waited with baited breath to see if she'd accept.

She looked at each one of us and then tossed her hair. "Oh, if I wanted him to have a haircut, he would have a haircut," she said confidently. "I just ain't thought about it until now."

"If you want," I said casually, my heart thumping in my chest. "I could do it. I know how to cut hair just fine from my momma, and I'd do it for free."

Sylvia bit her lip, looking at me apprehensively.

"I'd do it exactly the way you'd want me to," I added, and she smirked.

"Alright, then, it'd a deal," she said.

I hadn't seen Evie and Sandy looking so gleeful since I'd met them.

"Perfect," Sandy said, beaming. "I can't wait to see him looking decent."

"Oh, you just wait," Sylvia agreed, and tossed her own hair again for effect.

Evie nodded, and when Sylvia wasn't looking she leaned over to me.

"You're a helluva lot more fun than I thought you'd be," she whispered, and winked.

xxxx

**A.N: ** "There is nothing so simple on this earth as a man." This is a remark that I KNOW I've either read or heard recently from some interview or article or something, so I assume it's from someone famous. The person who said it (or wrote it) was talking about why Cosmo is a useless magazine. I cannot remember who said it, so if someone recognizes it, please tell me, lest I go insane trying to figure it out. I only used it because it seemed like a Sylvia thing to say.

Update: Nevermind, I figured it out (with some help lol). I quoted fellow fic-writer Artemis Rex. What can I say; she is full of win.


	10. Home Sweet Curtisey Home

**Chapter 10: Home Sweet Curtisey Home**

xxxx

**Disclaimer:** Susie's boys. And girls. Not mine.

xxxx

I left Sylvia's house with a plateful of cookies and a bounce in my step. I hadn't so much planned on stealing Dallas away from her, but if their break-up was as imminent as Two-Bit had hinted, I wanted to be ready. Dallas had to know I was available, and it looked like I was going to get the opportunity to let him know just that.

"I'm home," I called, going in to the cosy living room. "Anybody home?"

"Hey, where you been?" Darry was sprawled across the couch, watching a baseball game on the television. "Soda's making dinner – I warn you, it won't be pretty."

I laughed. "It's okay, I brought cookies."

His eyes lit up. "Chocolate chip?"

"You bet."

"My favourite," he said, grinning. "You're a good cousin, Susie. Our cookie jar ain't had cookies in it since …" he trailed off.

"Since, a long time ago, I expect," I finished for him, and he smiled gratefully.

"Just sitting on the counter collecting dust," he said sadly. "Hey, gimme a cookie?"

"Darrel Curtis!" Sodapop tore into the living room. "You put that cookie down right this second. How dare you eat sweets before dinner!"

Darry jumped. "I wasn't!"

"Liar," Soda shook his fist at Darry. "Don't make me bust you up for ruining your appetite before dinner, you lousy s- s- somethin-or-other."

"I'd like to see you try, little man," Darry said mildly. "I could drop kick you across the city before you'd ever lay a hand on me."

"I'll let you off this time, on account of Susie being here," Soda said grinning. "Where you been, Cuz?"

"At Sylvia's," I said, laughing. These boys sure could be crazy. "What did y'all do all day?"

"Paid the bills," Darry said, getting off the couch and stretching.

"That took all day?"

"Yup. Takes all day to figure out which ones I can pay, which ones I gotta pay, which ones I'm gonna be able to pay based on what hours me and Soda are working next week," Darry groaned. "And which ones I can 'forget' to pay."

"And it takes him a full hour to work up the courage to even start," Soda said cheekily.

"And another half-hour tearing the house apart looking for the one you misplaced," Darry retorted.

Soda bowed his head meekly. "I found it again, didn't I?"

"You mean, _I_ found it," Ponyboy said, coming out of his and Soda's bedroom. "Hey, Darry, I finished my summer essay already."

"Good for you," Darry said absently. "I'll look it over later, alright?"

Ponyboy shrugged. "Don't see why you should," he said, almost a little resentfully. "I reckon I did all right."

"Alright, then I won't," Darry replied impatiently.

"It'd be nice to get some help," Ponyboy muttered, and disappeared back into his room.

Darry groaned again and pretended to tear his hair out. "It ain't like I don't get it," he said miserably. "Kid's at a rotten age, and been through enough to put even a saint in a temper. But his bad moods are making my hair fall out."

"Just as well," said a familiar jovial voice from the kitchen. "Since your hair's been turned grey from his last month's tantrums."

"Two-Bit." I beamed. "I didn't expect you here."

He grinned. "Just helping Sodapop cook."

Soda gave a derisive snort.

"Bless you," Two-Bit said. "Those the cookies? Ain't cursed by Sylvia are they?"

"No, I reckon they'll be just fine for eating," I said. "If someone'll show me the cookie jar …"

"No need," Soda said hastily.

"They got better storage facilities," Two-Bit agreed, patting his own stomach.

"I'll just put 'em in the kitchen, then."

"I'll help you," Two-Bit said, walking backwards with me.

I set the plate down on the kitchen counter, and Two-Bit deftly snuck a hand under the tea-towel covering them and stole one.

"Two-Bit Mathews!"

"What?" he asked innocently, his mouth full.

I rolled my eyes, and suddenly spied a green ceramic jar, set on the counter behind the bread box. "Oh, there it is …"

"Hang on!" Two-Bit made to stop me, but I'd opened the cookie jar before he could. It held a scattering of coins and a small roll of bills.

"What is this?"

He shrugged. "Curtises' mad money."

"And you knew it was there?"

He grinned sheepishly. "May have occasionally borrowed from it. Darry keeps it for greaser emergencies."

"Like hospital fees?" I asked alarmed. I remembered back to when Dallas had confronted the Socs. He'd pulled out that knife like it hadn't been anything out of the ordinary.

Two-Bit shook his head, and I breathed a sigh of relief. "Maybe in the future, but Dallas ain't gotten quite so demanding yet. Mostly it goes to pay for cigarettes, and groceries. Sodapop generally inhales most of what Darry budgets for. Don't leave much for the rest of 'em."

"For Darry and Ponyboy," I said absently. Of course Sodapop would eat everyone's food.

"Well, yeah, for Darry and Ponyboy, and sometimes for Steve when he's homeless, and for Dallas, when his hunger gets stronger than his pride, and for Johnny when he needs help surviving." He shrugged. "And me, when I'm feeling peckish."

"He pays for everyone?" I asked, baffled. "Why?"

Two-Bit smiled. "It ain't only Darry who pays. Soda puts in nearly his whole paycheck most times, save what he spends on Sandy, and Steve puts in penny for penny exactly what he takes. I don't reckon no one begrudges whatever Johnny takes, just cuz he's gotta take a whole lot of other shit too, and Dallas, well, he gives us a smile once in awhile."

I gave him a look and he relented. "Dally comes up with money enough in the rodeo season. And he's worth his weight in gold when one of us needs a hand in a fight. Well, maybe fool's gold. We take care of each other, Susie."

I was quiet a second. "Does anyone count it?"

Two-Bit frowned. "Well, no, I guess not. People come and go and add and take so much it wouldn't make sense to tally it all up. Too much work. Why?"

"Momma gave me some money to give 'em when I got here," I said, searching my purse for my wallet. "And neither Soda nor Darry will take it."

"Sounds about right," Two-Bit agreed.

"I ain't got no need for money, since I'm eating and sleeping here and hardly go out. I even got my paycheck from the diner, too."

"You're a regular Rockefeller," Two-Bit teased.

"I reckon no one'd notice then if I put that in here, bit by bit."

Two-Bit was quiet for a minute. "No, I guess they wouldn't," he said, sounding pleased.

I glanced at him and he gave me a smile. "It's a good thing you're doing."

"They put me up and they feed me," I said, feeling myself turn red. "I just thought they oughtta have some payment for their kindness."

"Even Sodapop?"

"I suppose."

Two-Bit laughed. He glanced towards the door to living room and then back at me. "You still set on going after Dallas, then?"

I looked down. I knew from his tone he disapproved. "Yes, I guess I am."

Two-Bit nodded. "Well, then I guess I wish you luck."

"Thanks." I hoped that was all he was going to say. I felt strangely uncomfortable talking about Dallas with him.

Two-Bit made to leave then turned around quickly. "Ain't it strange, you and Sylvia being such good friends when you have, well, so little in common and at the same time, so much?"

I paused, trying to figure out exactly what he meant. "Well, we ain't such good friends anyway," I said finally. "We only just met."

"Sure," he said slowly. "But don't it worry you none that y'all are friendly, when you're more than fond of the boy that she's roped?"

I hesitated. "I'm not going to do anything terrible, Two-Bit."

He smiled. "I knew you wouldn't."

I fiddled with the end of my shirt. He certainly didn't let anything slide. "I got a plan … I'm just going to let Dallas know how I feel, that's all. I don't mean to hurt no one."

He chuckled. "Well, Susie, I can't fault you for wanting to be honest. But I guess I oughtta warn you: Sylvia may fight like a girl, but that means she scratches like one, too. I wouldn't want to be facing her claws, myself."

"I'll be careful," I agreed.

"Hey, y'all!" Soda burst into the room, startling both me and Two-Bit something awful. "Ready to eat?"

Two-Bit punched him on the shoulder, which I guess meant something nice to Soda because he laughed.

"I'll be seeing you all later," Two-Bit said.

"You're not staying?"

He hesitated. "Nah, I gotta go on home for Sunday dinner."

"You oughtta stay, Two-Bit," Soda said pleasantly. "It'd be nice to have your company."

He shook his head. "I'd better go. Ginny and the old lady'll be waiting up on me."

"Well, come on over afterwards and help us sample the cookies then," Darry said, coming in and slapping him on the shoulder. "Ponyboy! Dinner's ready."

"Soup's on, kid," Soda called after Darry. "See ya later, Two-Bit."

"See ya," Two-Bit echoed. He looked at me and tipped an imaginary hat, then turned and left with a smile on his face.

xxxx

We'd just finished dinner and me and Ponyboy were getting to the dishes when the phone rang.

"Susie?" Darry poked his head into the kitchen. "It's for you. It's Aunt Sue."

"Momma!" I said gleefully, running to the phone.

"Hey sweetie," came her voice over the phone. "Better make this quick, it's long-distance, but I wanted to call and see how things are going with your cousins."

"Things are good," I said. I felt at once homesick and happy to hear from her. "I'm settling in real nice."

"Did you give them the money?"

I bit my lip and thought about the cookie jar. "Yes, Momma."

"And you're making friends?"

"Sure," I said. I thought about Dallas, and Sylvia, and Evie with her long red fingernails and short pants. "I been spending a lot of time with Two-Bit – I mean, Keith – and Ginny Mathews."

"Rosie's kids?"

"Yes."

"And she's doing alright?"

"Yes."

"And your cousins? They're well?"

"Yes."

"And you're behaving yourself?"

"Yes, Momma." Sort of, anyway.

There was a short silence.

"You haven't been back to see the old house, have you, honey?"

"No."

"Or, seen … ?"

I took a deep breath. "No, Momma."

"Well, good," she said, sounding relieved. "I know it must be hard being there, Susie, but I think it's for the best if you stay away from all that. There's no use resurrecting the past, but there's no use making more heartache in the present either, and that's all you'd get from that man."

"Yes, Momma." I felt a stab of irritation. She'd already made me promise not to go digging up the past when I said I'd go to Tulsa without her.

"I'm proud of you, sweetie. Taking care of your cousins like that."

I thought about Sodapop and Darry fixing up my room for me and cooking us all dinner. "They're taking real good care of me, too."

"I only wish I had the courage to be there with you." She sighed, and I could hear the bitterness of too many years hard work in it. "Jerry sends his love."

"Say 'hi' to him for me."

"He's taking good care of me now, and fixing the place up proper. It'll be a real good home when you get back. Now, I'd better go. Be good?"

"Yes, Momma."

"And don't make any trouble with no boys," she said dryly. "And when you do, make sure he's real nice, alright?"

"Yes, Momma," I laughed.

"And stay away from that man."

xxxx

I didn't have to wait long to put my plan into motion. The next day I went into work for the morning shift, and Sylvia was there, which was usual. She was alone for once and only ordered a float and didn't much speak to me. I reckoned she was mad that I'd insulted Dallas so much, so I made a point of complimenting everything she was wearing, and fawning over how beautiful she looked today. I even brought her a basket of free French fries on my break. By the time my shift was over, she'd relaxed enough for us to be friendly again.

Ginny had the morning off, but she came in at the end of my shift.

"You!" she said loudly, and stomped over. She didn't waste any time, but reached over and slapped me on the back of my head.

"What?" I asked, clutching my head. "What did I do?"

"I'm trying to knock some sense into you," she said. With her hands planted on her hips like that she looked just like her mother. "Ain't you got no taste?"

I stared at her bewildered. "What do you mean?"

Ginny glanced at the corner, where Sylvia was sitting, watching us with an expression of intrigue.

"My brother mentioned the- the _choices_ you made the other night," she spat. "I would think that you would have the sense not to go scavenging on that one's hand-me-downs." She pointed a finger at Sylvia, who smirked.

"Your brother sure didn't seem to approve of her clothes, if that's what you're saying," Sylvia called. "I imagine they made him want to just rip them off of her."

Ginny went red. "Don't talk about my brother that way."

"And why not?" Sylvia said challengingly. "He's a boy like any other."

"Because it's disgusting!" Ginny yelled, stomping into the kitchen. "And I don't wanna hear it!"

Sylvia shrugged. "Well, that makes two of us, but I ain't the one who brought it up."

I was too busy thanking my lucky stars that Ginny hadn't mentioned the cast-offs of Sylvia's that I was most interested in. I didn't bother to answer her.

As I made to leave, Sylvia pulled me over to her table.

"I have a plan," she said in an undertone. "Here's your part: agree with everything I say when I ask you, and don't say nothing else. Got it?"

"Sure," I said anxiously. "What's this about?"

"Dallas is picking me up early," she said, tossing her hair. "He doesn't know why yet, but I told him it was important for him to show up at two o'clock."

"It's a quarter to three," I pointed out.

"I know that," she said irritably. "If I tell Dallas it's important he be somewhere at two, he'll be there no later than three, which is perfect, because we're going out at seven, which gives you and me four hours to convince him to let you beautify him."

"Beautify … ?"

"You got your own scissors?"

I sucked in a breath. "Oh. You want me to cut his hair, _now_?"

"Damn straight," Sylvia growled. "The sooner the better. Ain't no one gonna say I don't got pull with my own man."

The doorbell tickled suddenly and she looked up. "Holy hell, he's early," she said under her breath.

"Well? What the hell's so goddamned important that you gotta drag me outta bed so early, Sylvia?"

I turned around in my seat just in time to see Dallas stride up to the table, looking irritable and messy and much more like he'd rather be at home with the shades drawn than getting 'beautified'. But, he sure did look like he could use a haircut.

"Hi," I said breathlessly. Then I shook myself. I couldn't go acting all lovesick in front of Sylvia.

"Hi," Dallas said absently. He frowned, looking past me to Sylvia. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Sylvia was studying Dallas, biting thoughtfully on her fingernail. I could almost see the scheming that was going on in her blonde head.

"I was just thinking," she said slowly. "Susie's right."

"About what?"

"About the way you look," she said. I stared at her. Surely she wasn't going to go telling Dallas all I'd said about his appearance?

Dallas gave me a hard look. "What the hell did she say?"

"That you'd look real handsome if only you cut your hair," Sylvia said, and I relaxed.

Dallas hesitated a second, seeming unsure of whether to take the compliment or not. Then he scowled. "Well, it's my goddamn hair, so I can't see how it's any of your business."

"Cool out," Sylvia said. She turned to me, a cunning look in her eye. "He can be such a baby about his hair," she said in a stage whisper.

"Fuck you," Dallas spat. He turned and walked right out the diner and lit a cigarette. Sylvia followed quickly, motioning for me to follow as well.

Dallas looked up when we joined him. "Ain't your fucking business," he said, continuing the conversation like he hadn't just up and left. "Interfering broad."

Sylvia ignored him. "The number of times I've offered to cut his hair, and he won't hardly let me touch it."

Dally smirked. "I let you touch my hair. Maybe not the stuff on my head."

I could feel myself turning red at his words, but Sylvia didn't hardly bat an eye. She was determined now.

"His own girlfriend. Can you imagine? He is," she paused dramatically, her eyes gleaming, "_scared_ to let his own girl touch his hair."

"Now wait just a minute," Dally said. "I ain't scared of shit."

Sylvia gave him a challenging look. "No? Not even of letting a girl cut your hair?"

He glared at her. "I ain't letting you within ten feet of me with scissors in your claws."

"So you are afraid," Sylvia said smugly.

"I ain't."

"Well, then-"

"Don't got much faith in your abilities, is all."

Sylvia raised an eyebrow. "So you'd have no problem with letting a real pro handle your hair, huh?"

Dallas took a drag off his cigarette, gave her a long look and said nothing. I didn't blame him – Sylvia wasn't exactly a picture of subtlety.

"You're not afraid of that, right? Not my big strong man," she cooed, gliding forward.

Dallas looked at her warily. "Don't get like that."

"Like what, Dal?" Sylvia said innocently, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Dallas put an arm around her, almost reluctantly, muttering something in which only the words "tricks" and "again" were audible.

"You ain't afraid of nothing are you, Dal?" she said, looking up at him with worshipful eyes. She let her hand trail down the front of his shirt to rest on his belt. "Not even a little haircut?

I looked at her, wide-eyed. Surely Dallas wasn't going to fall for that … was he?

"Nope," Dallas said his eyes travelling down her body. "I ain't got no problem with letting someone who ain't a butcher cut my hair. I ain't afraid of nothing, girlie."

I sighed, and a triumphant smile lit Sylvia's face. She stepped back from him so fast for a second he was groping at thin air.

"Well, today's your lucky day," she drawled. "Cuz Susie here learned how to cut hair from the best."


	11. The Winston Home

**Chapter 11: The Winston Home**

xxxx

**A/N:** Sorry for the wait, all. I had intended on leaving Sylvia's convincing at what was in the past chapter, but, as a couple of reviewers pointed out, that would have made Dallas as whipped as airplane butter, and just as boring. So, I had to write a little more of Sylvia's conniving. Unfortunately, I'm not as smart as Sylvia, so it took me some time.

On the upside, there are now two further action-packed chapters focusing on Dally's haircut.

Major props and thanks to Artemis Rex, to who's writing talents and womanly wiles I owe the first part of this chapter and the Paul Newman idea. Actually, I think I owe the idea for the second half of this chapter to her as well.

**Disclaimer:** These are S.E. Hinton's toys, but I'm eternally grateful that she shares them.

xxxx

"Abso-fucking-lutely not," Dallas said flatly, turned on his heel and walked back into the diner. I had the strangest feeling that he was trying to run away.

"Dallas," Sylvia whined, hurrying after him. "Come on."

He pulled a chair around and sprawled across it sideways, legs spread wide, one arm resting on the back of the chair. "There ain't nothing in it for me, you crazy broad! There ain't no reason why I'd do that."

Sylvia slunk over to him and slid onto his knee. "Not to make me happy?"

"I can make you happy in a lot of ways," he said, grinning. "But not that one."

She pouted. "Why not?"

"Let me explain something to you," he said patiently. "I ain't gonna go changing my ways just to make you happy. If you ain't happy, you can find yourself someone else."

Sylvia moved off of him quickly. She sat down on a chair and crossed both her arms and her legs. "Shows just how much you know about relationships, Dallas."

"And you askin' me to change shows just how much you know about me, Sylvia."

I couldn't have agreed with him more. I knew if I got my chance, he'd see that we were more suited to each other than Sylvia and him. We had a _past._

Sylvia sighed gustily. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, she suddenly smiled and moved her chair over to his. "Fine. If that's what you want."

"It is."

She reached out and stroked his arm gently and gave a tinkly laugh. "And if it makes you happy to look like you ain't even washed in Lord knows how many days, then fine."

It was an awfully thinly veiled insult but Dallas hardly reacted, only narrowing his eyes a little at her.

"Good."

"Then I'm happy."

"Glad to hear it." He pulled his arm out of her grasp.

Sylvia scooted her chair closer. "Well, I'm … alright, at least."

"Fine."

She reached out and took his arm again, running her fingers up to his shoulder. "As long as it's what you want."

Dally sighed exasperatedly. I couldn't help feeling just a little bit cheered when yanked his arm away again. "It is."

"I don't _really_ mind. As long as you don't. I only mind a little."

Dallas gave her a long look, folded his arms and said nothing.

She tipped her head down and looked up at him through her lashes. "So, as long as you don't mind me being _miserable_ because of it, then fine."

"Jesus Christ," he muttered. "If you're miserable it's your own damn fault."

"Then, I suppose if you ain't gonna make me happy, then I'll have to do that myself."

"Good for you."

"Glad you agree. Then I guess you wouldn't so much mind it if instead of dating you, I were dating, oh … Paul Newman."

Whenever I next needed a partner in crime, I was going to look to Sylvia again. She could have given Sodapop a run for his money in the scheming department. I looked to Dallas and almost felt sorry that he was going to lose the argument. He was rolling his eyes and hardly paying attention; he wasn't going to see it coming.

"Glad to know your head ain't in the fucking clouds, Syl," he said, smirking.

"Well …" Sylvia paused. "Maybe just imagining it, then." She closed her eyes and smiled dreamily. "I suppose, you wouldn't mind it if when I was kissing you, I was picturing … _him._"

Dallas sat up straight. "Why the fuck would you do that?"

Sylvia shrugged, her eyes still closed. "Well, you said I oughtta make myself happy, since you wouldn't. I didn't think you'd mind."

"Yeah, well I do."

She opened her eyes, gave him a once-over, bit her lip and winced in a way that every man would recognize as a clear rejection. "Well, if you ain't gonna make me happy …"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Dallas said irritably.

"Mmm, don't get like that. It's gonna work out just fine, Dallas. This'll make me real happy. I wonder …" She paused. "I reckon this'll work so well, I oughtta tell the girls about it, too. Sandy and Evie, and maybe, Angela Shepard-"

"The fuck you will!" Dallas yelled. "Fucking _Paul Newman_. If you're gonna tell Shepard's sister about anyone it'll be _me_, not that fucking candy-ass acting pansy."

He was livid, but I knew he had to be hurting after the insults she'd thrown at him. I was a little surprised how mean she could be, and once again I felt a little sorry for him. I just wanted to reach over and take his hand, or wrap my arms around him and just comfort him …

He banged his fist down on the table hard, making me jump, then swore and rubbed his hand.

Sylvia smiled, unfazed by his actions. "Well, I do tell them about you when you do nice things for me."

"What the fuck is it you want?" Dallas said, and though there wasn't an ashtray in sight, he lit a cigarette.

"I just want to be with you," Sylvia purred. "Although, I wouldn't mind if it were a slightly improved you."

"What? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, most of you is nice," Sylvia said simply. "Real nice. Just as good as Paul Newman. Other parts of you, well, they could use some fixing to get to his standard."

Dally glared at her some more and said nothing.

"And I might be inclined to be more attracted to the parts of you that are nice, if the parts of you that weren't so nice were nicer." Sylvia folded her hands and looked at him innocently. "You know?"

"No, I don't know," he said irritably. "I don't speak no fucking Chinese. Quit talking in circles and tell me what the fuck it is you want so I can get outta this fucking conversation."

Sylvia shot a pointed look at me. I tried to rearrange my features into a look of attractive invitation and surprise.

Dallas glanced at me, and looked back at her. "What?"

Sylvia ran a hand through her hair and gave me another look.

"Jesus Christ," Dallas muttered, looking around him. "What are you, a fucking hunting dog?"

Sylvia stamped her foot and gave me another look. "Maybe Susie could help you with smartening up, huh?"

The realization slowly dawned on Dallas and he looked at me and groaned. I couldn't blame him for getting twisted – I could barely follow Sylvia myself and didn't trust myself to interrupt.

"So, you'll do it?" Sylvia said brightly.

"No!" Dallas stood up and paced back and forth for a minute, running his hands distractedly and almost protectively through his hair. He sat down again and leaned over to Sylvia.

"It's like this," he started earnestly. "You date me for me, right? Well, you know I don't do shit unless it's worth it. That's why I date you."

I mentally applauded the excellent complimentary tactic. Point one for Dallas.

It was too bad that Sylvia's point count was in the hundreds.

"See, it don't make sense for me to do this, when I could easily do something worthwhile to make you just as happy," he said. He was trying hard to sound reasonable, but there was an edge in his voice that hadn't been there before.

I sensed a Sylvian victory approaching.

"I mean, there ain't nothing in it for me."

Sylvia shrugged. "You'd get a haircut for free."

He shook his head. "I ain't looking for that."

Sylvia hesitated. "Well …"

"There ain't nothing."

Sylvia sighed in defeat. "I suppose not."

"So, there ain't no way in hell I'd do it, because it ain't worth it to me. It's gotta be worth it for both of us – 'sonly fair. You understand that, don't you, baby?" Dallas said carefully.

"I guess," she said sulkily. She stood up suddenly and walked to the counter where Ginny stood, scowling. Sylvia glanced over her shoulder at Dallas. "Buy me a float."

Dallas gave her an incredulous look, and I couldn't blame him. "No."

Sylvia shrugged, and reached into her purse. "Okay, I'll buy my own."

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Dallas said irritably and got up. "Put your damn money away. I got it."

Sylvia gave him a radiant smile. She sashayed forward and slipped her thin arms around his waist, fairly melting her body into his. She looked up at him with huge eyes, and leaned forward until they were almost kissing. "Thank you, Dallas," she breathed.

He grunted. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry I tried to make you smarten up."

"Good."

She kissed him gently. "It's got you all bent outta shape, huh? What can I do to make you happy again?"

Dally smirked. "I think you know."

"No," Sylvia said sweetly. "I think _you_ know." She gave him another gentle kiss.

"Here's your damn float," Ginny said loudly, and put it on the counter with a loud smack.

Sylvia laughed and slid one slim finger down the glass in delicate contrast with Ginny's roughness. "It's cold." She lifted her hand and ran the same finger down the skin at Dally's collar. "Ain't it cold?"

Dallas shivered and pulled her hand away. "Do I look like I care?" he murmured.

Sylvia laughed again. "And how would I know what you care about? I ain't a mind reader."

You didn't have to be a mind reader to know what Dallas was thinking. Every person in the diner could have figured it out with one look at him.

"I'm thinking," he half-groaned. "That you and I oughtta find ourselves in a place not so popular as this one."

Sylvia smiled. "That sounds nice."

Dallas didn't waste time. He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door. "C'mon."

"So that's a 'yes'?"

He stopped looking at her puzzled. "What?"

"We're going to get your hair cut," Sylvia said innocently. "Right?"

Dallas did a double take that would have had me laughing if I hadn't been so entranced. "Fuck, no, that's not what I meant."

"I thought you wanted to, you know," she smirked. "Go somewhere else."

"Yeah? And you said-"

"That would be just fine with me. Which means then, of course, we're going to cut your hair," Sylvia said in a tone of complete reasonableness.

He stared at her, as confused as I was. "What?"

"You asked me what was in it for you if you went along with what I wanted," Sylvia said patiently.

"I wasn't _asking_, Syl, I was explaining-"

"And I just explained to you what was in it for you."

"That wasn't-"

"You said you'd like that, so obviously you agreed to my part of the deal as well."

"Hang on-"

"If you don't feel like getting a haircut, well, then let me drink my float." She turned away from him, hopped up on a bar stool, and noisily drank from her glass.

It was a good thing she had her back to him because the look he gave her would have sent a boy Darry's size running. "You goddamn _tease_."

"If I'm gonna make you happy, you're gonna make me happy." She looked over her shoulder and winked. "You said it yourself. 'Sonly fair."

Dallas swore violently, kicked at his chair and missed, then turned his defeated glare on me.

"This better be the best damn haircut you ever gave," he growled, "or it'll be your last."

xxxx

Dallas had put his foot down about the where and when and what the haircut would look like in order for him to agree to do it at all, even after Sylvia's all-out performance. I was a little awestruck with how strongly my words had affected her – I hadn't known I'd had such power.

Dallas had flat out refused to go to Sylvia's house. I suggested the Curtises' house, and Sylvia suggested Buck's, but both times he'd scowled and mumbled something about wanting a place more private. I'd mentioned maybe Two-Bit would let us use his place, and he'd swore so vehemently I felt the need to apologize for the suggestion. I guessed he liked the idea of people laughing at him even less than Sylvia did.

We'd stood around doing nothing for awhile, Dallas saying he wanted to scrap it and Sylvia insisting he not, until she finally said that if he didn't pick a place soon, she was going to wait until he was passed out drunk and cut it herself.

So, he found an alternative.

"You ain't going in."

Dallas was leaning against a chain link fence, smoking another cigarette and looking like he was about ten seconds away from killing Sylvia. Behind him, across the tiny patch-work lawn strewn with empty beer bottles, was a house as tiny as the Curtises's and obviously in need of repairs.

The Winston home.

I couldn't help shivering.

Sylvia crossed her arms and scowled. "Why not?"

"Because I said so, damnit," Dallas said irritably. "I don't want you fucking distracting her, so get lost."

Sylvia started to pout, but Dallas held up a hand.

"It we're doing this fucking thing at all, we're gonna do it my way."

Sylvia recovered quickly, although I could tell she was annoyed. "Of course, Dallas." She gave me a look, the meaning of which I couldn't decipher, turned and began to walk away. Every few steps she looked back at us before continuing at a snail's pace down the street. Dallas watched her go, a tiny smirk on his face, and gave an exaggerated wave when she finally turned the corner. She gave him the finger.

"Stay here," he ordered, not looking at me. "Gotta make sure … Stay here."

He swung open the rusty gate and stalked through the yard, kicking away a tin can. I clung to the gate, watching him brace his shoulder against the door to open it.

"Hello?" he yelled from the porch. "Anyone home?" He waited for a few seconds, listening to the silence, and then disappeared inside.

I looked around me. We were just around the corner and hardly a block away from the Curtis home, and mostly the houses around looked as decent as theirs, although obviously poor. Dallas's, too, looked almost identical, only it seemed a little worse for the wear. But then again, they didn't have Darry to do all the repairs. He seemed awful handy.

"You can come in," Dallas called from somewhere in the house. He didn't appear, and there wasn't anyone around, so I made my way gingerly through the yard to the open door.

I didn't know what he'd gone in first for, but cleaning up certainly wasn't the reason. The living room was strewn with laundry, dirty or clean, I couldn't tell, and the windows were caked in grime. A stack of dirty dishes that would have made Momma faint was piled on a couple of television trays. There were no lights.

I couldn't tell where Dallas was, but there was a short hallway to my right and I could see a couple of doors leading off from it. I padded my way across the grey carpet, past a bathroom, a tiny closet and what must have been the master bedroom. The last door was cracked horribly at the top of it, as if someone had tried to smash it in two. Huge block letters were written across it at waist height in black marker:

**DALLYS ROOM – STAY OUT!!**

And underneath, in tiny, barely legible, sullen lettering:

**pleese**

It looked as if someone had tried repeatedly to scrub the block letters off, and failed. I supposed the 'pleese' had been a sorry alternative.

The door was ajar, and the curiosity was just about killing me. I pushed it open slowly.

And took a step backwards.

I knew most boys weren't keen on doing laundry themselves, but goodness, I couldn't imagine that he could sleep at all in that filth. Everything was bunched in a corner, as if some living creature were making a nest out of it. I squinted a little, and noticed that among the dirty jeans and underwear were a few items that Dallas could never have worn now, having not the parts for some of them, and being either too large or too small for others.

On the other side of the room, standing on a curiously clean patch of carpet, were twenty-four empty Pepsi bottles, lined up meticulously in three straight lines of eight each. I couldn't fathom what that meant.

Across the room from the door was an open window, and underneath it, an unmade bed with a linen-less pillow at each end.

"Wanna closer look?"

I jumped and turned to find Dallas barely two inches from me. He raised an eyebrow and nodded over my shoulder. "See you found the fucking laundry room."

"It's very nice," I said timidly, now able to account for the strange clothing piled in Dallas's room.

"It's a shithole," he said flatly. He moved closer, forcing me to step back or be pressed against him. "But it ain't a bad place to sleep."

We stood in silence for awhile, Dallas staring determinedly at my face, and me looking everywhere but at his.

"I'd offer to give you a tour," he said finally. "But I guess you seen it all now, huh?"

"Sorry," I whispered, and after a moment he backed away.

"What are the soda bottles for?" I asked as he made to leave.

He looked back at me in surprise, and even in the dim lighting I could see him redden slightly. "It's a … jungle."

I looked back at the strange arrangement and noticed that among the pop bottles were one or two tiny green army men.

"I don't use it anymore."

I smiled at his words. "No, I guess not."

He hesitated a moment, then pointed up at the split in the door. "See that? Stole a pack of the old man's cigarettes when I was seven and ran in here and locked the door. Old man came after me with a fucking axe when I wouldn't open it and give 'em back."

I stared at him, horrified. "That's awful!"

He grinned, seeming to relax a little. "No big deal." I had the feeling he'd needed to tell a big story to make up for the army men.

"You must have been scared," I murmured, and he frowned.

"Nah. He didn't come after me with it. Only wanted the smokes."

I shook my head and looked up at the door again. "I would have been terrified."

He was quiet a minute. "Well, I guess I was a little. Probably the last time I ever was scared." He grinned at me again, cocky-like, and I managed a small smile back.

"At seven, I reckon I would have screamed until my voice was gone." I looked at him and smiled. "My momma coulda made me wet myself with how scary she was when she was mad."

We both laughed, and I could feel the tension dissipate.

I lowered my voice, conspiratorially. "Actually, I reckon she could get me almost as scared now."

He laughed again, and I felt a thrill thinking that after today he might count me as a closer friend.

"I hid under the bed," he admitted. "Was so sure he was gonna drag me out by the ankles and chop me in two, but he just took the pack of smokes and left. Stayed awake all night under there waiting for him to come and get me, but he never did."

I wanted to put my hand on his arm, and comfort him somehow. I wanted to tell him I understood, and that I didn't think any less of him.

He looked at me and something suddenly seemed to close in his expression. "You do some stupid things when you're a kid, don't you? Most of it don't mean shit." He glanced at the pop-bottle jungle and it's tiny contingent of army men. "Most of it, you grow out of pretty damn quick, if you're smart."


	12. Dallas Gets What He Asks For

**Chapter 12: Dallas Gets What He Asks For**

xxxx

**A/N:** I am leaving in a couple of days for a week-long vacation – if I can get to my email, I might be able to post something, but likely not. Sorry about the wait all; have some Dallas.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own S.E. Hinton's fictional creations.

xxxx

"Kitchen."

It was a stretch.

Dallas looked at me sideways and cleared his throat. "What I mean is, I reckon there's a kitchen somewhere here under all this crap."

I ventured a smile. "You know, you're starting to remind me a little of Two-Bit."

Dallas cocked an eyebrow. "Ain't that the truth," he drawled, with sarcastic enthusiasm, a loopy grin on his face. "Even without them dumb fuckin' ugly sideburns? Tell you what, why don't you re-_mind_ me_,_ seeing as I misplaced my first. Get it? Re-_mind_? Hyuk."

He dropped the goofy look, slunk over to the fridge and pulled out a beer. "I ain't in no way like that idiot yahoo."

I was struck for a minute by his harsh reaction. "You – you don't like him?" I asked quietly, when I could speak again.

He popped the top of his beer and took a swig, and managed to scowl and look confused at the same time. "Whattaya talk? He's my buddy." He tipped the beer at me. "You want?"

I blinked at his momentary slip into a New York accent. "No, thank you. Why would you make fun of your own friend? Isn't that a little … mean?"

I could barely get out the last word. I could hardly believe I'd even said anything at all to Dallas in such a reprimanding fashion, but I felt a strange sort of guilty surge when he belittle Two-Bit. He'd done a pretty decent impression.

Dallas looked at me with surprise and gave a kind of half-laugh. "Well, hell, kid. I thought you knew better than that. I thought you understood how we all operate. It ain't all unicorns and butterflies on the East Side."

He spoke with such an even mixture of disappointment and condescension that I didn't know whether to feel offended or apologetic. I only looked at him, lost for words. Only a minute ago, I'd felt as if we'd become real friends, close friends. I shouldn't have presumed, after such a short re-acquaintance …

A sly smile spread slowly across his face and I relaxed. "Unless there's some other reason you're defending him?"

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. "No!" I said hastily. "I'm not – I'm not involved with – with _anyone_."

I forced myself to look him in the eyes, trying to make my point clear.

He took another sip of beer, and his eyes never left mine. They were such a clear, sharp, beautiful blue, I felt they were looking right into my soul …

"Yeah," he said, and belched. "Me either. I'm only dating someone." He winked at me and, to my shock, downed almost all the rest of his beer in one swallow. It wasn't even dinnertime.

"So, uh …" He looked around, suddenly uncomfortable. "You need scissors or something?"

I realized I'd almost completely forgotten about the reason I was there in the first place. I took a breath and tried to shake all thoughts of Two-Bit out of my mind, and focus purely on the man standing in front of me.

"I'll need a bowl."

"What the fuck for?" Dallas looked alarmed. "You ain't gonna put it on my head, are you?"

I laughed a little, and he scowled at me. "No, I just need it for water."

He looked at me, his brow furrowed. "You gonna wash the kitchen? Or me?"

I swallowed and looked down. "Neither … it's just to get your hair wet, so it's easier to cut."

"Huh," he said. "Well, it oughtta be …" He opened one of the cabinet doors and had to jump out of the way to avoid being hit in the head by a can of beans.

"Shit. Well, maybe … ?" He opened another cabinet, which held a box of matches and a couple tins of Spam.

"Maybe down there?" I pointed at the lower cabinets, which was where we usually kept our pots and bowls and things.

Dallas yanked it open and out of it fell, onto the cracked linoleum floor, more rusty pots and pans than Momma and me and the Curtises had put together.

"Fuck. _Fuck_," he said, throwing his hands up. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a cigarette, which he jammed into his mouth. "I'm done. This shit is for chicks. I'll be – I'll be … "

He left. I could hear the sound of him striking a match from the other room.

I sank to my knees and fished out a large, red, plastic bowl from the pile of pots.

"Didn't even want … fucking _Sylvia_ …"

I heard a loud thud from the other room that I felt shake the walls of the tiny house.

"Bitch better not fuck up …"

I almost dropped the bowl as I stood. I'd heard people swear before, and I'd almost gotten used to hearing Dallas swear so thoughtlessly. But I couldn't remember anyone ever swearing so badly about me.

I swallowed and filled the bowl at the sink as calmly as I could, telling myself not to take his words to heart. He was nervous, and, after all, he wasn't saying it to my face. He hadn't meant for me to hear, so surely it wasn't what he really and truly felt.

Still … I almost dropped the heavy bowl as I placed it on the table, and my hands were shaking as I brought out my scissors and comb.

I heard him mutter "Sylvia" again and I felt suddenly a little angry and then, maybe because of it, a little more brave. I'd seen her work her wiles on Dallas, but I'd managed to trick her first. I thought back to what Two-Bit had said about me not being cut out to be like Sylvia. Well, maybe I wasn't like her, but that didn't mean I couldn't learn from her.

I smoothed down my hair and adjusted my skirt a little, hoping I looked alright. I felt my nerves flare all of a sudden, and tried to calm myself. Sylvia wouldn't have been nervous.

I crept out of the kitchen and down the hallway. I could hear him muttering to himself, but he must have moved outside. I couldn't make out the words, but I could hear the tension in them.

I opened the tiny closet and found what looked like a clean sheet to drape over his shoulders. I brought it back quickly to the kitchen and tried to calm my furiously beating heart. I wouldn't mess this up, I wouldn't, I _wouldn't_ …

"Hey."

Dallas was leaning against the doorframe, his arms folded, the now-empty bottle of beer dangling from his fingertips. He tipped his head to the side, studying me with narrowed eyes.

"I'm sorry you got blindsided," I said in a tiny voice.

He frowned at me, but not unkindly. "Hmm?"

"By Sylvia."

He laughed. "I didn't get blindsided. I don't do nothing unless I want to."

"Oh, good," I said relieved. "I thought maybe you didn't want a haircut."

He downed the rest of his beer. "Can't imagine why."

"I thought maybe you were only doing it cuz Sylvia made you. Cuz she said if you didn't-"

"Alright, we gonna do this or just talk about it?" he snapped. He looked around us at the tools I'd set up. "We good?"

I gave him a shaky smile. "All ready for you."

He nodded and moved to sit down.

He moved so quick, I had to scramble to get out of his way, and in my haste to move the sheet, I managed to sweep the scissors and comb clear off the table. They skittered across the linoleum and slid under the refrigerator.

"Oops," I squeaked.

Dallas gave me a long look. "I'll get 'em."

He retrieved the scissors and comb and made to give them to me. As he passed me the scissors, his long fingers brushed gently against mine and I felt a rush of excitement. Once again the scissors clattered to the ground.

Dallas closed his eyes and gave a short sigh.

"Sorry!" I tried to retrieve them, but somehow managed to kick them away from myself. I scrambled after them, and looked up to see Dallas staring at me, wide-eyed and incredulous. He shook his head and looked to the ceiling.

"Lord," he drawled. "Let the girl cut my hair without bloodshed, and when I get to heaven I swear I'll share my whiskey with Jesus."

I laughed nervously and wiped my sweaty palms on my skirt. Dallas was smirking, but as I bent to pick up the sheet again, I saw him cross himself out of the corner of my eye.

I swallowed and sent up a prayer of my own before turning to him. "Ready?" I asked bravely.

"Oh, God, I hope so."

I took a deep breath and reached for his hair. It was just hair, nothing to get excited about …

I sure hoped he couldn't feel me shaking.

I gently ran my fingers through his soft blond hair a couple times and tried to relax.

"You gonna cut my hair, or rip it out with your goddamn fingers?" Dallas said irritably. "Jesus, you broads like to take your time at everything, don't you? Don't much mind when it's something fun, but _this_ …"

I felt a flush of embarrassment and I almost apologized, until I remembered that it wasn't something that Sylvia would do. Instead, I gave my best tinkly girlish laugh and ran my fingers through his hair again.

"It just feels so nice. Don't it feel nice?"

He twisted around to look at me, a small frown creasing his forehead.

I smiled weakly at him. "I mean, your hair is soft as silk. It's nice to touch."

He studied me with an unreadable expression, and I felt a thrill of fear, worrying that he'd suddenly get mad. But he only turned back around and settled back into the chair. "Suit yourself."

I ran my hands a few more times through his hair, then eased him back towards the water basin. "Gonna wet your hair a little, it'll make it easier to work with."

He grunted. I didn't know what that meant, but he wasn't running away, so I took it as an okay sign.

I combed his hair out again; even wet, it was still soft. I bit my lip, gathered my courage, and gently let my shaking fingers brush past the ends of his hair down the back of his neck to his shoulders. I felt like I was looking at another girl's hands touching him. I did it again, gently, and saw him swallow out of the corner of my eye. I felt a sudden thrill of excitement.

I reached for the scissors and he leaned forward suddenly, grabbing my hand. "Not too short, alright?"

"Sure," I said, hoping my voice didn't quiver.

I shook myself. One way or another I had to get his hair cut, and if I did it poorly, he would hate me. I'd certainly cut hair before – I just had to concentrate and forget that it was Dallas.

I took a deep breath, raised my scissors and gently made the first cut, letting the hair flutter down into the garbage pail. Dallas winced and jerked around quickly.

"Not too damn short!"

"That was barely a quarter of an inch," I protested. He looked so agitated it almost scared me a little.

"Yeah," he grunted and turned back around. "Well, that's a goddamn lot for a guy."

I made a few more tiny cuts, Dallas cringing with each snip of the scissors.

"Take it easy," he said suddenly, and I jumped so violently I almost stabbed him with the scissors. "Don't have to cut so damn fast. What if you screw it up?"

"Alright, I'll take a break," I said, setting down the scissors. I hesitated a second, then put my hands on his shoulders, gently rubbing as soothingly as I could.

Dallas glared at the scissors and I could have sworn I felt a tiny shudder go through him. "I fucking _hate_ haircuts."

I bit back a smile. I could see now why he didn't want Sylvia to cut his hair or even to stick around while I did it. He would have hated for her to see him so uncomfortable. I could just imagine how much she would tease him, and I resolved to let that be the one point in this haircut where I wasn't like her.

"Well, it's a good thing you look good with your hair long, then," I said timidly.

Dallas shot me a suspicious look. "Yeah." He didn't say anything more, but he very slowly relaxed.

I took my time with the haircut, as much for me as for him, stopping every so often to wet his hair down again and comb it. I was too nervous to touch him again anywhere else but his hair and he didn't make any moves towards me.

The haircut was almost over and he still had hardly looked at me. We'd spent the afternoon together alone, we'd talked about the past, I'd even touched his shoulders, but he didn't seem to have a clue. I was getting desperate, running out of ideas on how to get him to notice me. I picked up the water basin, intending on emptying it to buy me some time, but I was so preoccupied I wasn't watching my footing. My toe caught the edge of his chair, and the basin flew from my hands, crashing to the floor and soaking Dallas from head to toe.

He yelped and leapt to his feet. "What the fuck!"

"I'm sorry," I cried. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Yeah? And now I'm soaked." He grimaced. "Jesus Christ, that's fucking cold!"

"I'm so sorry," I said miserably.

He glowered at me and I took a step back. He really was frightening when he was angry. "I look like I took a swim in my goddamn jeans. Jesus." He sat down again, squirming and tugging at his pants. "This sure ain't fucking comfortable."

I swallowed. "That's alright," I said unsteadily, trying to keep my voice from betraying my nerves. "You can take those off."

He looked up at me, surprised, the anger dropping off his face like a mask.

"I mean," I said quickly, "you can change into something that'll make you look better. For Sylvia."

"For Sylvia," he echoed. He was staring at me intently, a tiny half-smile on his face. "Well, maybe I will then." He snapped the button on his jeans and slowly undid the zipper, his eyes burning into mine. Then suddenly he stood up.

"Better go and change," he said in a low voice, and winked.

"Good idea," I said relieved.

He left and I sat down quickly, my legs trembling. I'd started it with my obvious hints, just like Sylvia had, but I was gladder than anything that he'd left instead of acting on it like I knew he would have with her. I'd never been so nervous in my life. I couldn't imagine what I was thinking, talking to a boy like that.

I closed my eyes and tried to calm down. My heart was beating so hard I thought I might faint. I couldn't be this nervous forever – Sylvia didn't seem nervous flirting with any boy, even the dangerous King Shepard, as Two-Bit had called him, and it was high time I'd outgrown it. If I was going to compete with her, I'd have to play her game.

I managed to calm down before Dallas returned, but I almost dreaded the sound of his footsteps. He came back in the room and all I could do was stare at him.

"This look alright?" he asked, one eyebrow raised. "You're looking awful hard at me." He pulled the edge of the shirt to his face. "Don't smell do it?"

"N-no. Looks fine," I stammered. I was so nervous, it barely registered what he was wearing.

"Good," he grunted, pushing up his sleeves. "I ain't about to go back in there and change again anyway."

I nodded, not listening. He was going to leave soon, and I was sure he had no idea of my intentions.

"It's getting late. I better go …" He was looking around, bored, and I knew this was my last chance. I swallowed and took a deep breath. I could do this.

"Don't you ever tuck your shirt in?" I said in my most teasing voice, and reached forward to grasp his shirt front.

I'd meant, obviously, to help him with the tucking-in process. Sylvia's words about a man's inclination for subtlety kept running through my head. If I was going to let Dallas know I was interested, I had to get his thinking where a boy feels romance. But as soon as I touched his waist, I had a sudden clarity of thought that made me freeze.

I was a good girl damn it, and there wasn't no way in hell I was going to put my hand anywhere close to _it_.

Dallas had started something awful when I'd moved towards his waist but he was recovering better than I. His look of shock gave way to a look of amusement and he slowly let his hands drop to his sides.

My fingertips were still pressed against his stomach. I knew I should take them away at least, since there wasn't no way I was going to go through with helping him dress. But I couldn't seem to get myself to move.

"Go on, then," he said huskily, a sly smile spreading over his face. "You gonna help me dress like a proper gentleman?"

I felt my face flush and my breath get short. He slowly moved a hand toward the one of mine that was pressed against his midsection, and finally I got my wits about me enough to move. I yanked my hand away and stumbled backwards, tripping over my own feet and falling to the ground. That sly smirk spread across Dally's face until suddenly he was laughing.

My eyes started to water; it smarted when I'd fallen, but I was more humiliated than hurt. I bit my lip and forced myself not to cry. I'd made a fool enough of myself already without any tears.

Dally's laughter died down slowly and he reached for me. "Here you go; need a hand up?"

I let him help me up, but I couldn't even look at him. His voice was still thick with amusement.

"I didn't mean to," I mumbled, not even sure what else I could say to justify my actions.

Dallas laughed again. "I don't imagine you did. But, hell, I didn't mind."

I snuck a quick look at him, and found he was smiling.

"Tell the truth, I was just starting to enjoy myself." He was still holding my hand from when he'd helped me up, but now he slid it slowly up my arm. I felt my breath catch.

"Well, don't you look smart."

I whirled around to see Sylvia standing there, taking us in with her calm blue gaze. I couldn't think of how to explain what was happening, but she hardly seemed to notice me.

"Told you not to come in," Dallas said, but he didn't sound angry.

Sylvia shrugged. "Door was open."

Dallas moved passed me and folded his arms. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him glance almost nervously down the hallway where his bedroom was. He didn't look at me. "So? Whattaya think of the castle?"

"Honey, I ain't wastin' my time lookin' at nothing but you, right now," Sylvia drawled, "with your smart new haircut."

Dallas grinned, and dropped his arms. "You like it, huh?"

Sylvia glided towards him. "You look awfully presentable." She tipped her head back and smiled at him, a look in her eyes that I couldn't place.

"Well, don't get fucking used to it," he said roughly, pulling her in to him. "I ain't about to go doing this on my own anytime soon." He looked up at me. "You were a real good help," he said sincerely.

"You did make him look nice," Sylvia said, beaming at me. "Better than I could have."

Behind her back, Dallas gave me a wink.

"Sure," I said, feeling suddenly confident. I met Dally's gaze squarely. "Anytime."

I watched them walk out together, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction. I was amazed that Sylvia couldn't see the danger right in front of her face.

xxxx

**A/N:** That scene was fun, but almost unbearably awkward to write. Having a good girl like Susie try and "seduce" Dallas was like leading a lamb to the slaughter. I'd love to hear any feedback on it, good and bad; mostly, I worry about OOC-ing Dallas.


	13. Bad Girls

**Chapter 13: Bad Girls**

xxxx

**A/N:** Sorry for the ridiculous wait. I suck. But, I finally got my ass kicked back in gear heh (thank you ass-kickers – you know who you are). This is an extra-long chapter this time as an apology.

**Disclaimer: **Property of Susie Hinton.

xxxx

"Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty. There you go," Ginny said, and handed me a wad of bills.

I gaped at the money. "That can't be right."

She raised an eyebrow. "Business has been good lately, and I reckon it's got something to do with you. Go on; take it."

I took the cash reluctantly, still feeling shocked. "Because of me?"

Ginny tossed her hair impatiently, loosening the pencil there. "You're the one who made friends with _Marilyn_," she cast a contemptuous look at the table where Sylvia was sitting, today wearing an almost immodestly tight dress that showed off her curves and a pair of false eyelashes that would have looked excessive on anyone but her.

"So, what?" I said defensively.

"So, you bring her here more often, she brings _them_ here." Ginny spread her arms, encompassing the diner, now filled with a lunch crowd of mostly boys our age.

"And _they _bring _this_ here." Ginny flicked her fingers at the tips I still held in my hand.

"What's that?" Sylvia poked her nose over my shoulder. "Ooh, shopping!"

"I can't," I said, wistfully. "I've got too many other expenses."

Sylvia pursed her lips and gave me an appraising look. "Do you _really_?"

"Well, the Curtises can't feed me for the whole summer on their own budget."

Sylvia heaved a big sigh. "Oh, you're giving it to _them_. You know," she looked at me through her eyelashes, "it might come in handy when they throw their next party."

"Party?"

She nodded smugly. "Sure. They throw a good party, now and again."

"Oh yes, now I remember," Ginny said sarcastically. "That last one was a real hoot, what with the clowns and the birthday cake. Naptime was real welcome after that."

Sylvia glanced at her. "Yes, that's probably the last one you were invited to."

Ginny scowled, but we still had a diner full of people. She left to serve them, giving me a meaningful look.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but Sodapop sure does like a good time," Sylvia murmured. "And being as Sandy's not keen on Buck's or the drive-ins at night, she'd much prefer a party at Soda's. But it costs good money for a night of such … _debauchery_."

I looked down. Somehow, she managed to make me feel like I'd already spent my hard earned money on liquor and beer. Mentioning Sodapop didn't make me feel any better about it.

"But I can see why you'd want to spend money on that rather than on your appearance. Oh-"

Sylvia leaned forward and picked a piece of lint off my shirt, then straightened the collar. "That's better," she said sweetly.

"Well," I said uncomfortably. "I already gave them my paycheck-"

"And that's so, so good of you," Sylvia interrupted, looking at me with earnest eyes.

"I guess I could-"

"Fantastic." She spun around and snapped her fingers at the table where Evie and Sandy were finishing their cokes. "Come on girls, we're going shopping."

xxxx

I hadn't been shopping in a long while, and I'd forgotten how nice it could be to dress up and go to town. Evie drove us down in her parents' car, gossiping all the while with Sylvia about a party that night that was being held at Buck's. It didn't take much for Sylvia to convince me to meet them there – all she had to do was mention that Dallas would be there as well. I hadn't seen him since I'd cut his hair four days before.

We stopped in a number of shops, and even though I was the one with the money, Sylvia and Evie both seemed to be looking far more intently than Sandy or me. We were deep in conversation about Sodapop – I was educating Sandy about his past behaviour – when Sylvia suddenly pulled me to the dressing rooms.

"Put this on," she commanded, and handed me a dress that was clearly more her style than mine.

I sighed and tried it, just to appease her, and as I'd feared it was far too immodest for my taste.

"Just wear it tonight to the party," Sylvia said silkily. "Just try it for one night, and if you don't like it, well," she shrugged modestly, "give it to me then."

Evie snorted.

"Just for one night?" I said dubiously.

"You'll get a ton of attention," Sylvia added. "Those greaser boys – this is the stuff that gets them going."

I swallowed. I had made my feelings perfectly clear to Dallas, and I was sure he understood. That was the extent of my plan while he and Sylvia were still dating – it wouldn't be decent to do anything else until then. I thought back to the day I gave him the haircut, and the way his hand had felt sliding up my arm. I closed my eyes and found it easy to imagine him saying it was over between him and Sylvia, and leaning in gently for a soft kiss … I wondered if their break-up might come sooner than I'd hoped. I looked at myself in the mirror in Sylvia's choice of dress and knew that he would appreciate it. It couldn't hurt to be prepared.

"Well, I guess I could get it just in case. Not saying I'll wear it for sure-"

"Oh, just get it!" Sylvia commanded suddenly.

"_Wear_ it," Evie added.

"Be brave," Sandy said warily.

Sylvia leaned over, grasping my shoulders and grinning wickedly at me in the mirror. "Be _bad_."

xxxx

I had a time walking even the few steps up to Buck's roadhouse from Two-Bit's car in my new shoes and clothes, but Sylvia's advice kept ringing in my ears. It was plain that Sylvia wasn't a goody-two-shoes like she complained that I was; she was adventurous. I wasn't at all sure I could be like that; every other attempt I'd made had fallen short. But, I reminded myself, I'd managed eventually to get Dallas to notice me, and the result wasn't altogether bad. I resolved to try on Sylvia's attitude once more – just for one night.

"You sure you want to go in?" Two-Bit said, following me reluctantly up the stairs.

"I thought you liked Buck's?" I said, surprised.

He sighed. "I like a lot of things I probably shouldn't."

"Well, anyway, I said I'd meet Sylvia and the girls here."

He followed behind as we entered, a little too close for my liking. "You sure are tight with that crowd now, huh."

"Is that bad?" I said frostily.

"I'm glad you're having a good time in Tulsa," he said vaguely. He gave me another once over; he'd been giving me looks that were hard to interpret all night, and I was sure it was because of the clothes. This time though, he hadn't said anything against them, and I was glad.

"Sylvia here with Dallas?" he said casually.

"I hope so," I said irritably, and then felt bad. He was just asking.

He gave me a stern look. "They're still dating. And you said-"

"I don't plan on doing anything," I said quickly. I wasn't about to tell Two-Bit about the recent connection me and Dallas had made. He wouldn't understand. "I just wanted to look nice tonight, alright?"

He shrugged, and led me into a small room that could have been a living room, only it was much too dirty, and had far too many people in it.

"Susie!" Sylvia squealed, and hopped off the chair where she'd been sitting to come over. "Hah, I told you you'd look great in those clothes."

I was a little taken aback by her friendliness and her high-pitched squealing until I realized that every boy in the room and most of the girls were following her with their eyes. Sylvia shook her hair back, seeming to glow under all the attention.

I saw some of the girls were looking at her with less than admiration, but if Sylvia noticed, she didn't care.

"There are some chairs over there," she said, but I wasn't looking.

Dallas was slouched over a kitchen chair, looking completely at ease with his surroundings. He was eyeing me with a slightly surprised air, but when our gazes met he gave me a smile.

"Hey, Two-Bit, that's a nice looking piece you got with you tonight," he called. He motioned to the boy sitting across from him – my James Dean lookalike. "Shepard thinks so, anyway."

"Shepard thinks you're a weasely fucking cunt who won't pay him back what he's owed," Shepard replied. He hadn't so much as glanced at me when I'd come in, and he even had his back to Sylvia. He was watching Dallas with an easy stare, and from the irritated way that Dallas was glaring at him, I could tell that he'd been sitting that way, asking after his money for a long while.

"She ain't _with_ me, anyway," Two-Bit added. "She's only with me."

Dallas shrugged. "Too bad for you, then. Mine's always _with_ me."

"I am not your 'piece,'" Sylvia said incredulously. "I'm my own woman."

She said it loudly, and clearly for the benefit of all the other people in the room. She seemed to be soaking up the attention like it was keeping her alive.

Dallas laughed. "Nah, you ain't. You're _my girl._"

"Fuck you," Sylvia replied simply.

"Maybe you should," Dally growled.

"Careful, Dal," Shepard said, a smile in his voice. "You piss this chick off and she might take off."

"That's right," Sylvia cooed, and put a hand on Shepard's shoulder. He didn't look up.

Dally blew smoke out, and gave Shepard a false innocent look that exuded irritation. "Just like her momma, you mean?"

Sylvia stood up straight and took in a breath. Shepard let out a low chuckle.

"Ever the charmer," he said, smiling.

Sylvia tossed her hair, her hands balled into fists. "My momma's just like me," she said fiercely looking back to her audience. "Free and wild, and can't be tied down by no one or nothing. Not even a husband." She whirled on Dallas suddenly. "So, don't you go getting no ideas."

Dallas had been taking a sip from his beer but he choked at her words. I thought the boys around him were going to bust a gust laughing.

"Sweetheart, you're breakin' his heart," Shepard said, grinning while Dallas spluttered over his beer. "Ain't you know all Dallas wants in life is a white picket fence, a wife and a little Dally running around?"

"I got your little Dally right here," Dallas snarled, grabbing his crotch. "And I want that shit like you'd want a prison fuck, Shepard." He paused, smirking. "Or so you say, anyway."

Shepard stood up slowly, his expression becoming stony. "You don't wanna keep talkin', Dally."

"No, he doesn't," Sylvia said sweetly. "Or he might let something slip about his future plans."

"Sylvia, for Chrissakes," Dallas started irritably.

"Sorry Dally, you know I love you," she sang, and leaned down to look him in the eye, her arms resting on his shoulders, "but you've got no hold on me."

Dally's eyes narrowed to slits. "Oh, you think so, huh?"

"I know it, Dal."

"Well, maybe you don't know as much as you think you do," Dallas said roughly, and pulled her into him.

Sylvia gave him an appraising look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I got plenty of _hold_," he said, and slid a hand up her leg. "And don't you think for a second that I couldn't get anything I wanted outta you."

"You think you fucking own me," Sylvia hissed, but her eyes were bright and she didn't look angry.

"I as good as do."

"I'm yours?"

"You're mine."

"Well, shit, Dallas," she said teasingly, "that almost sounds like a proposal to me."

The entire room burst out laughing, and Dallas shoved her away quickly.

"I don't make those kind of offers," he said, and lit a cigarette.

"Oh, Dallas," Sylvia snatched the cigarette from his mouth and took a drag, sashaying her way towards the door, "_I'm_ the only one in our relationship with something to offer."

She paused at the door, lifting one foot behind her like a Hollywood actress, and blew out smoke through carefully pursed lips, one eyebrow arched teasingly. Every boy in the room had his eyes on her and it was plain she knew it.

"And honey," she drawled, "I ain't offering it to you tonight."

She slipped through the door, leaving a trail of catcalls and laughter in her wake. Without warning, Shepard stood suddenly and followed her.

I snuck a look at Dallas as they left. He stared after her, looking sullen, his cheeks red with embarrassment or anger, and I almost felt sorry for him. But a second later he'd lit a cigarette, and was whispering to a couple of girls seated next to him that he was well rid of them both, if only for the night.

I wasn't about to let the opportunity pass on to some other girl. Sylvia had just left Dallas, and whether she meant it or not, he was alone now.

I swallowed hard and marched over to where Dallas was sitting and seated myself in the armchair where Sylvia had been moments ago. Dallas watched me sit, a look of amusement on his face.

"Well," he said, looking me up and down, "come to bum a smoke?"

"She doesn't smoke," Two-Bit said from behind me, and I realized he'd followed me over to Dallas and was sitting on a kitchen chair he'd dragged there. "She ain't looking to pick up your bad habits, Dally."

"Why the fuck not?" Dallas looked genuinely nonplussed. He leaned over and handed me his cigarette "They're fun habits to catch on to."

"Don't get too close, Susie," Two-Bit said, a smile on his face, but a serious note in his voice. "He's got a couple of not-so-fun things you can catch as well."

Dallas gave him a sarcastic smile. "Charming."

I thought it was awfully ironic for Dallas to say something like that, but I held my tongue, focusing instead on the lit cigarette in my hand that had, just a few minutes before, been held in Dally's lips. I took a breath and reminded myself that – just for tonight – I was going to be brave. I was going to be bad. I took a few puffs on the cigarette, letting the smoke out as quickly as possible. It left an awful taste in my mouth.

"Not like that," Dallas said lazily.

He stretched and stood up, moving over to where I was sitting. He crouched down beside me, and looked me in the eye.

"Breathe the smoke in deeper," he said in a low voice. "Take it in … all the way." The corner of his mouth twitched. "As deep as you can, alright?"

I nodded, unable to look away from his clear blue eyes, but feeling myself blush because of them. I took another puff on the cigarette trying to remember how Evie looked when she smoked, and trying to imitate the same grace and sophistication she had while following Dallas' advice.

I felt pretty good about it until I started choking.

I let my breath out in a rush of burning smoke, coughing madly. Dallas tumbled back, and I could see him laughing for a second before my vision blurred.

I coughed a few more times, gasping for clean air and trying to rid my throat of the horrible burning, and suddenly realized there was a glass of water held just inches from my nose. I grabbed at it and gulped gratefully, relishing the cooling effect the liquid had on my sore throat.

"'Attagirl," Dally said smiling, reappearing before my cleared eyes. I managed to smile back at him before turning quickly back to the water. With a start I realized that Two-Bit had been holding the glass. I looked up at him and he raised an eyebrow.

"Better be prepared next time, huh?" he said wryly.

"Isn't that the Boy Scouts' motto?" I said, and drained the glass.

He chuckled. "Boy Scouts? Can't imagine anything more representing of myself."

"It's alright, Susie," Dallas said, pulling himself back up. He perched on the arm of the chair I was sitting on and slung a leg over the side so that he was pressed up right against me. I looked up at him, startled, and he smiled back down encouragingly at me. Without changing expression, he slid a hand slowly down my back. He leaned down and brushed a strand of hair away from my ear before whispering so close I could feel my skin moisten from the heat of his breath.

"It always hurts the first time," he breathed, then backed away and winked. "It'll get easier."

I felt a thrill run up my spine where his hand was still and warm against me. The electric feeling warmed my cheeks before settling somewhere in the pit of my stomach.

"Thanks," I said, wishing I could say something more intelligent.

He smirked and took a long drag off his own cigarette. "Just remember that for the next adventure you pick. Your first go at it may be rough, but in time, you'll be a real pro."

He took another drag and leaned back on his elbows, head tipped back, to let out a few perfectly formed smoke rings.

"Well, hell, Dallas, don't you think she's had enough adventures for tonight?"

I was surprised to hear the pronounced note of anger in Two-Bit's voice. I looked over at him, and he stood rigidly, his hands balled into fists, glaring at Dallas. I'd never seen him looking so angry.

Dally took another drag and let his breath out normally, looking at Two-Bit with shrewd eyes. Then he smirked.

"It didn't take me all that long to get from nothing to what I know now," he said, his eyes on Two-Bit. "All she needs is a good teacher."

"I'm sure I wouldn't learn nearly as fast as you," I breathed, and he laughed.

"Well, I do got a talented mouth," he said and winked.

"You sure as fuck do, you slimy asshole," Two-Bit snapped.

He said it so loud, there was a ringing silence in the tiny room for several seconds afterward. People were looking towards us, but when neither Dallas nor Two-Bit started in on each other again, they gradually returned to their conversations.

"Mmhmm," Dallas said finally. "Well, it looks like someone's stayed out past their bedtime. Cranky, Two-Bit? Why don't you head on home. I'll take care of Susie."

He reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me off the chair and towards the kitchen.

"You'll like this," he murmured in my ear, and the laughter in his voice made me smile. "It's better than smoking, anyway."

"Let her go, Dallas." Two-Bit caught my other hand, pulling me back. "We're going home, Susie."

Dallas spun around and draped an arm across my shoulders. "It's just a little fun, Two-Bit."

"For who?" Two-Bit said wearily.

Dallas made a mock pouting face. "What you got against us having a little fun?"

His use of the word "us" sent a surge of excitement through my body. He was talking about him and _me_.

Two-Bit ignored him. "C'mon Susie, let's go."

"He don't want us to have fun, Susie." Dallas dropped the pout suddenly, and stared at Two-Bit with the most penetrating gaze I'd seen on him, a tiny smile on his lips. "Now, why is that, Two-Bit?"

There was a short silence, Two-Bit glaring at Dallas, Dally smiling challengingly at him.

"You know goddamn well why," Two-Bit said finally.

"Well, I think you should tell us," Dallas said silkily. He pulled me in closer. "Come on, Two-Bit, honesty is the best policy."

"Don't be an asshole," Two-Bit said quietly.

"You hate to see us having fun without you, huh?" Dally said, and Two-Bit sucked in a breath quickly.

"She ain't up for your kind of fun."

I shot Two-Bit an irritated look. I knew he meant well, but I could take care of myself. I didn't need him getting in the way.

"Alls I was gonna do is give her a little drink," Dally said lazily. "Ain't nothing wrong with that in my eyes, but I guess it's up to her." He turned to me. "So, what's it gonna be, doll? Have a little fun with me, or go home with this sad sack?"

"Susie-" Two-Bit started but I'd long ago made up my mind.

"I'm going with Dallas," I said bravely. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay, Two-Bit?"

Two-Bit sighed and shook his head, but I could tell Dallas was pleased, and that was what counted. "'Attagirl."

He pulled me faster towards the kitchen, at the last minute turning back to call to Two-Bit in an almost teasing voice: "And don't worry Two-Bit, she'll won't be out late. Just out long enough for a quick one … drink, I mean."

xxxx

There wasn't much of a kitchen to work with, but Dallas wasn't looking to cook anything. He set me against a counter alone for a second and returned, somehow carrying a bottle of some brown liquid.

"Guess what I found," he said, smirking.

I smiled back at him and offered no guesses – it could have been whisky or rum or gin and I wouldn't have known the difference anyway.

Dally unscrewed the bottle top and took a swallow of the liquid. He grimaced and shook himself, then offered me the bottle.

I took it hesitantly – anything that made _him_ cringe was sure to be unpleasant – but his encouraging smile was enough to get me to take a mouthful.

It burned, but I was surprised to find it wasn't nearly as bad as the cigarette had been. I took another swallow and then another, glad to be able to keep up with Dallas. He'd been right; the second and third mouthfuls both went down much more easily than the first.

"Slow down," he laughed, and took the bottle back. "You're gonna put me to shame."

The admiration in his voice dispelled the last of my concerns. I couldn't be a goody-two-shoes forever, anyway. And if Dallas were there to help me grow up, well, I'd just be the luckiest girl in Tulsa.

He took another swig of liquor, looking around him at the few other people in the kitchen. "Surprised he didn't follow."

"Two-Bit?" I said surprised. "Well, you told him to go on home."

He looked at me sideways. "Well, if he did go home, he's a fucking moron."

I could feel my face getting warm, either from the drink or the way he was looking at me. For a moment, as I looked at him, I wondered what on earth he was doing; it occurred to me, suddenly and strangely, that he couldn't be as interested as he seemed. How could a girl like me compare with a girl like Sylvia, in his eyes? Why was he even with me?

Before I knew what I was doing, I'd said it out loud. I hadn't meant to bring up Sylvia, but I supposed what they say about drink loosening peoples' tongues is right.

Dallas seemed mildly surprised. "You and Sylvia ain't comparable, doll."

I looked away but he laughed and said it wasn't like that.

"Alright," he said grinning, "You want the truth? You're pretty enough, and you ain't halfway the bitch that she is. I like the change of pace."

"I like it, too," I said softly.

He took another swallow of liquor, his eyes on me. "Well, then maybe we need another one."

He took my hand again and pulled me along. I wasn't sure if it was because he was moving so fast, or if it was the bright lights and loud noises of the party, but I felt dizzy following him. I tried to slow down to get my bearings, but he pulled at me insistently, and then all of a sudden we moved through a door and plunged into darkness.

xxxx

It took me a moment to realize that we were only in the hallway that ran past the kitchen to the back door. It was so dark that it felt like we'd entered another world, even though I could still hear the party going on, just a foot or two away from us.

He pressed me up against the side of the hallway, his face inches away from mine. I didn't dare move. I hardly dared breathe.

"How'd a little thing like you get Mathews all twisted up in knots, huh," he murmured.

He was so close I might have been able to feel his lips moving, only I'd gone numb. His eyes glittered in the darkness, a strange kind of calculating look on his face. It was so dark, I couldn't see a thing past him.

"Well, maybe you oughtta find that out yourself," I said, feeling all at once proud and sick at my own daring.

Dallas chuckled lowly. "Well, maybe-"

"Jesus, fuck."

I turned my head so fast to see who had spoken that the room spun for a couple of seconds. I felt Dallas let me go and a dark unfamiliar shape moved down the hallway towards us. Whoever it was, I could smell his cologne. The cigarettes and liquor smells I couldn't be sure weren't coming from Dallas. Or even me.

"You sure got yourself an innocent, Winston. Ain't worried that big ol' cousin of hers ain't gonna hunt you down and pound you into the ground for pounding her?"

I didn't know what he was talking about; Dallas didn't mean to hurt me at all. The newcomer's voice was familiar, but I couldn't place it. The room began to spin again, so I stopped trying to figure it out and focused on staying upright.

"Fuck off, Shepard," I heard Dallas say. "We're just having a conversation. A goddamn _private_ conversation."

"Well, then I guess you won't mind me having one with Sylvia," Shepard said, and his shadow backed away. "I got some interesting things to tell her."

"You don't got the balls," Dallas sneered.

I felt so disoriented in the dark with the room spinning, I was thoroughly glad when Dallas put his hands around my waist.

"Steady," he muttered. "You fall over, an' I'm coming with you."

I hardly heard him. The room was spinning so fast now, I was having trouble breathing. My stomach suddenly seized, and I realized, horrified, that I was going to be sick.

"Where were we," Dallas was whispering. "Before Shepard stuck his fucking deformed nose into it-"

I pushed him away and turned for the door, going as fast as I could. I could just hear behind me the noise of someone barging into the hallway, a high-pitched shrieking and Dallas hollering, but I didn't care.

The next thing I knew I was kneeling in the dry grass, being violently sick. I hadn't been sick in a long time; I'd forgotten how much it hurt.

I laid on the grass for a long while afterwards, and gradually became aware that I could hear voices talking in the hallway I'd just run from.

"Baby, I was just trying to help her up, you saw how fucking drunk she was-"

"And you're going to try and tell me you didn't have nothing to do with that!"

I felt sick again realizing the voices I was hearing belonged to Dallas and Sylvia. I wondered how much she'd seen, if she'd be out for my blood next.

"I gave her the booze, but shit, I didn't think she'd take it that badly. Fucking Shepard got it all twisted around. You ain't gonna take his side against mine, are you?"

There was a moment's silence, and then I heard Sylvia sigh tiredly. "I don't know, Dallas. I just …"

They didn't speak, but even in my state I could hear enough of the noises to know that they were making up just fine.

"Come on upstairs," Dally said hoarsely. "Forget about her, alright? Let's just … come on …"

"You go, I'll be up in a minute." Sylvia sounded every bit as breathless as Dallas did.

I closed my eyes to get away from the spinning stars, and tried not to cry. I didn't think I even had the energy to cry, much less make my way home to bed. The thought of sleeping in the grass all night sent a spasm of terror through me, and I wished to God I'd just gone home when Two-Bit had told me to.

Then suddenly I felt myself being hauled up and knew that Two-Bit had found me again. I groaned to think of how I must have looked, hunched over a pool of sick on the lawn. I couldn't even open my eyes to look at him.

He dragged me back and sat me down on the steps, where the world spun for a few minutes. I felt something cool and wet touch my forehead and I managed a small grateful moan. I opened my eyes to see him but it wasn't Two-Bit comforting me this time.

Sylvia watched me carefully with her cool blue eyes, and gently moved the damp towel across my face. "I'm gonna tell you something, Susie," she said quietly. "And I don't give a flying fuck if you're drunk, or high, or miserable, you're going to damn well listen."

I swallowed scratchily. My throat felt awful dry. I tried to focus on that, and not on the tongue-lashing I was sure I was about to receive from Sylvia.

"There are a couple of lessons you can learn from boys that, if you're smart enough, you'll learn from girls instead," she continued. "We gotta stick together. Because there are mighty few boys in this world that'll give a fuck about what you want when what _they_ want is calling."

Laughter erupted suddenly from the roadhouse, and she looked back towards the noise. She was crouched next to me in the harsh yellow porch light, her brow creased in a bitter frown.

"Stay the fuck away from him," she said softly. "For your own damn good."

"Susie? Susie!"

I heard the squeak of the screen door opening and a clatter of footsteps on the stairs, then Two-Bit's concerned face appeared in front of me.

"What the hell happened to her?"

Sylvia stood slowly. "She ain't feeling well."

Two-Bit reached forward and cradled me in his arms. I was too weak to do anything but let him. "I'll take her home. Shit. I oughtta- I oughtta _kill _him dead_-_"

Sylvia laughed suddenly. "Where's your fucking horse, Prince Charming?" She gave him a hard look.

Two-Bit sighed. "You want a ride somewhere?"

She smirked and held up a hand, finger pointed. "No. I got my own."

I followed the direction she was pointing with my gaze as Two-Bit half-carried me to his car, up the crumbling brick wall to where a third-story window stood open. My vision was glazed from the drink, but I thought I could see him silhouetted there, lounging carelessly against the window-frame, the red tip of his cigarette glowing in the dark.

xxxx

**A/N:** Been having some "writer's block". Was this chapter too YA-preachy? Did the dramatics make you roll your eyes? Hopefully not, and hopefully I didn't just spoil it by asking, but I'd like to know if this style (mostly the ending scene and imagery) works for the more teen-angst type scenes, since there is more of that in the later chapters.


	14. Anything He Can Do, She Can Do Better

**Chapter 14: Anything He Can Do, She Can Do Better**

**A/N:** I am so sorry for the wait, y'all. It's totally uncool, I know, and I promise I won't make you wait it out for the next chapter like that. I plotted, I swear, it's just that horrible mid-fic schlump.

I know fuck-all about horses … I did some research, but it sure don't mean I know it all (and I'm now starting to type everything in Two-Bit's voice). If you notice anything that sounds dumb or doesn't make sense horse- or ranch-wise, please let me know.

_This chapter is being posted as part of "Good Fic Day," an effort to raise the quality of writing here. We hope to encourage more writers to improve the quality of their own fan fiction - spell check, grammar check, keep the gang in character, outline, plot and don't use Mary Sues. Good fan fiction requires effort, and we would like to encourage other writers to rise to the challenge of producing better fan fiction, not only for our readers, but for S.E. Hinton, who created the wonderful book we are trying to honour. (Mars on Fire)_

P.S. Happy Birthday, A!! ;D I'm sure it'll be Mattastic.

**Disclaimer:** All characters, scenarios and locations that are recognizably of "The Outsiders" are the intellectual property of the formidable S.E. Hinton. Oh, except Tulsa, cuz it exists for real. I guess that one belongs to God.

xxxx

The next thing I knew, I was lying in bed, my mouth cotton-dry and my head throbbing, the hushed sounds of the living room radio streaming through my open bedroom door. I remembered nothing of how I got home the night before.

I didn't want to move, but I felt desperate for a glass of water, so finally, with much mental coaxing, I got up. Someone had tucked a blanket around me, but I was still wearing my last night's clothes. Thinking back to the night before, I was glad for it; none of the company I had been keeping would have been fit to remove my clothes.

I tried not to think about how one of them almost had.

I staggered out of my room and down the hall to the bathroom; everything looked a little blurry, but at least the world wasn't spinning this morning like it had been the night before.

"Hey, you're up." Sodapop was sitting in the living room, nodding along to the radio. He held up his coffee. "Want a cup?"

I shook my head, and then winced as my stomach heaved.

"It'll help with your present condition," Soda said cheerfully, and went to get me a cup anyway.

I sat down carefully, although the feeling of guilt was much stronger than my nausea. I knew better than to act the way I had the night before. I hoped to God not many outside of Two-Bit and Dallas and Sylvia had seen me so drunk.

"You're awfully lucky Darry was out last night till after you got home," Soda called from the kitchen, as if reading my thoughts. He brought out a steaming mug of coffee, which I took, though the smell of it made my stomach turn.

"Was Pony asleep?" I asked hopefully. I took a sip of the coffee; surprisingly, it did make me feel a little better.

"Naw, but he didn't notice anything was wrong. Me an' Two-Bit told Darry and him you wasn't feeling well." Soda gave me a stern look. "But I gave ol' Two-Bit a talking to. He should have known better than to give you anything to drink."

I felt a horrible stab of guilt. "It wasn't his fault. I didn't know you could get drunk off of so little."

Soda shook his head. "Well, he was supposed to be watching out for you, and he didn't."

"It wasn't his fault," I repeated. "He can't control me."

Soda gave me a little half-smile. "What, you just like getting yourself in trouble or something?"

I set down the coffee. "I have to apologize to him. I shouldn't have … I should never have …"

"Calm down," Soda said, chuckling. "You shouldn't have, but you did, and you ain't the first in our neighbourhood to get drunk. Hell, Two-Bit does it all the time."

"He's a boy."

"Well, you ain't the first girl, either," Soda said. "Anyway, if you're set on apologizing, we could walk over to his house and maybe score ourselves some lunch. I made muffins this morning; I reckon if we bring 'em, they'll let us in. Mathewses never could resist a good muffin."

I nodded and tried not to make a face. The coffee had helped some, but still … I didn't want to think of food.

XXXX

The sun was awfully bright that morning. I had never known that bright light could be so awful before, and I wasn't any happier for that knowledge.

I was sure the walk to Two-Bit's would have felt long in my weakened state, but it seemed awfully short. I suppose it had to do with my nerves; I was certainly not looking forward to seeing his disapproval.

True to what Soda had said, Mrs. Mathews let us in the moment she saw him carrying the plate of muffins, although she seemed much happier to see him than the food, to tell the truth. He always did manage to charm all the mothers. Now that he was into girls, I could see how that skill could make him as dangerous as Dally.

Sodapop seemed completely at ease in the Mathews's home, but I scarcely heard a word of the conversation between him and Two-Bit's mother. My mouth was horribly dry, and I wasn't sure if it were from the sickness or the guilt of the previous night.

There was a terrific noise from the stairs and I thought my heart was going to leap out of my chest when Two-Bit suddenly appeared in front of us. He stared at me for a moment, his gay eyes solemn and wide with surprise, and I felt a thrill of guilt. But he relaxed the next second into his easy smile.

"Hey there, Susie, Soda," he greeted us. "Wasn't expectin' company, especially not so early."

It was almost lunchtime.

"We brought muffins," I ventured, hoping he would hear the unspoken apology. "They're just made this morning. Cornmeal."

"Well, that's mighty nice of y'all," he said.

"Why don't y'all join us for lunch?" Mrs. Mathews suggested. Two-Bit seconded it, and led us into the kitchen where Ginny was stirring a pot of something that smelled good, even to me. She greeted us with a smile, and we all settled down around the kitchen table. Two-Bit even pulled out the chair for me.

Maybe it was my imagination, but although he was perfectly friendly through lunch, I couldn't help feeling that he'd never been so reserved. He spoke with the same easiness as before, but he couldn't quite look at me. Or he didn't want to.

"So, what are y'all planning for today?" Mrs. Mathews asked us as we cleared our dishes.

"Well, I was thinking we might head on out to the ranch in Sand Springs," Soda said, and he cast a sidelong look at me. "If I can convince Susie that it's worth it for me to show her."

"Of course," I said quickly, without thinking. After last night, I wanted to be as pleasant as possible. Then I thought about it. "Wait a second – you want to go to a ranch?"

Two-Bit chuckled.

Soda turned to me with the best puppy-dog eyes I'd ever seen. "Oh, please, Susie?"

I wasn't falling for that.

"Why don't you just go yourself?"

"Because then he can't tell Darry that you were the one who wanted to go. Darry'll only let him get that close to a horse if there's a damn good reason, else he'll end up riding one again," Two-Bit said.

"I ain't allowed," Soda grumbled. "On account of Darry's a hardass."

"Language, boys," Mrs. Mathews said warningly.

"It wasn't me!" Two-Bit protested.

"It was almost you," was her quick retort.

"I tore something riding before," Soda said, turning back to me. "Dad was afraid I'd do it again, and Darry – well, he's suddenly real fond of all of Dad's rules."

I felt a pang of sympathy hearing Soda talk about Uncle Darry. The whole family had avoided bringing him and Aunt Jennie into conversation so far, and I was sorry I'd made him say anything.

"I reckon Sylvia will be there," Sodapop said hopefully, trying to coax a positive answer from me. "And ol' Dally's never been one to pass up a chance at riding, either."

The jolt I felt at hearing Dallas's name was hardly unusual, but this time I felt a flash of queasiness along with it, at the idea that there were people in that kitchen who _knew _I had felt a jolt. I felt my face get hot and I kept my eyes determinedly on the plate I was washing.

"Well, at least there'll be someone else you know there," Two-Bit said slowly. "To keep you company, Susie, when Sodapop leaves you for a nice pair of legs in horseshoes."

"You ain't going?" Soda said, surprised.

"Naw, I got things to do," Two-Bit said, and I felt that horrible queasiness again.

"I'm busy too, thanks for the invite," Ginny said dryly.

"Aw, shucks, and I was just about to ask," Soda said, giving her a broad smile. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a wink. "You sure we won't be seeing your pretty face around the ranch today, darlin'?"

Mrs. Mathews leaned over, and without hardly looking gave Sodapop a smack across the head. "You keep your hands off my baby girl, Soda Curtis." She wagged a finger at him, and the look on her face was only half-teasing. "I know you boys. I'll be keeping my eyes on you."

"Mom," Ginny groaned, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, Mom," Two-Bit echoed. "_I'll_ be keeping my eyes on Soda." Then he gave Sodapop a fierce glare that made everyone laugh.

Soda turned to me. "Well, it looks like it's just you and me. I won't leave you with Dallas, and anyway, Dally'll be just as distracted by the horses' legs," he shot a look at Two-Bit, "as me."

"Or some other kind of legs, anyway," Two-Bit agreed, but there was a bite in his voice that made me think he wasn't just teasing.

I nodded along with them without thinking, too distracted by that terrible sensation again. I felt suddenly horribly ashamed that anyone would know I was more than fond of Dallas.

XXXX

Two-Bit gallantly offered us the use of his car to get to the ranch, although he'd neglected to mention that it was almost completely out of gas. The ride to the ranch was uncomfortable, but with the windows rolled down on the highway, I felt my morning's queasiness begin to fade away. By the time we pulled into the small parking lot, I was feeling almost – but not quite – as good as new.

We stepped out of the car, Sodapop chattering happily, pointing out this and that. I couldn't possibly have kept up with him. All I could take in was the horribly blinding sunlight, and an extraordinary amount of dust.

"Hey, what y'all doing here?"

I blinked the sunspots out of my eyes and suddenly Dallas was standing in front of us, looking no worse for his late night drinking. Dally's eyes took in Sodapop with an amused expressions, as if he already knew what brought Soda to the ranch. His gaze slid briefly to me and I braced myself for a smirk and knowing look. But his blue eyes were unreadable.

"Hey," he said, and then, nonchalantly, "I feel like hell today, how about you?"

He didn't wait for an answer, but bounded back across the dusty parking lot, answering someone's call.

I started after him, towards a wooden fence penning in a few riders. I tried to ignore the look of surprise on Soda's face.

"You were with Dallas last night?" Soda grabbed my arm, turning me towards him.

"Only for a short while," I said uneasily. I couldn't meet his gaze; I thought it had only been a short while last night, but my recollection was fuzzy at best.

"Well, that explains it," Soda said, sounding aggravated. "I would have thought Two-Bit would have taken better care than to let you get drunk, anyway. A short while with Dallas is enough to get any one in trouble. You shoulda known better, Susie."

My cheeks burned from his reproach. That Sodapop of all people should be scolding me – the troublemaker of my childhood and now the great womanizer of Tulsa – made me feel doubly the fool for my actions the night before.

"You said it wasn't a big deal …" I couldn't even believe that myself.

"That you get accidentally drunk, once? No. That you do it with Dallas …" He shook his head.

We walked the rest of the way to the ring in silence. I couldn't quite figure out what he meant about Dallas, but I had a gut feeling that whatever he meant this time he was right.

We watched the riders, and I could almost feel Soda's bad mood lifting off after only a few minutes. I watched one of them – the only girl in the ring, her long hair tied in a ponytail – try and ride a shifty looking horse who kept cantering off sideways when she tried to rein him in. Suddenly I gasped – I recognized her with a shock. It was Sylvia.

Soda glanced at me, and raised an eyebrow. "I thought you two were friends. Didn't you know she rode?"

I struggled to answer him. Two-Bit had told me Sylvia had learned to ride horses from her daddy, but to hear about it and see this perfectly coiffed girl riding around in the dusty ring, her hair streaked with dirt and sweat, well … that was something completely different.

Her horse got away from her again; I saw a flash of blond hair and recognized Dallas calling to her, shouting something I didn't understand. She waved him off, and to my surprise, he backed away, letting her work it out herself. He started to jog towards us, glancing back at her occasionally and smiling.

I felt suddenly worse.

Soda sighed, sensing my mood, and slung an arm around my shoulders. "Look, Susie … don't sweat it, alright? I ain't your momma or nothing, but I ain't looking to find you face down in the gutter alongside Dallas. I guess it's okay that what happened last night happened once. Now you know not to do it again."

"Do what?" Dallas hopped up onto the fence we were leaning against. His face was streaked with sweat and his eyes were lively, defying his previous night's state. I'd never seen him look so carefree; he looked almost wholesome.

"Party with you, you crazy kid," Soda said, putting on a scowl that couldn't have fooled anyone.

"Why not?"

"Cuz you end up drunk and sick, Dally." Soda was still joking, but there was a warning note in his voice I'd never heard before. It was a tone of voice I was starting to associate with anyone speaking to Dallas – just on the edge of telling him what's what.

Dally shrugged. "Just cuz you're ascared of alcohol don't mean she's gotta be."

"She's a nice girl, Dallas," Soda shot back.

It was nice and all, having Soda and Two-Bit stand up for me. But sometimes I felt like they didn't even think of me as a person, the way they talked about me. He was talking about me like I wasn't even there.

As if reading my thoughts, Dally looked at me and winked. "You a nice girl, Susie?"

I smiled and said nothing. It was a question that didn't need answering – and truth be told, I wasn't even sure of the answer anymore. But I felt a swell of emotion towards him just for asking.

"You're just mad cuz I'll bet she can drink you under the table, Sodapop," Dally teased. He shook his head slowly. "Bested by a girl. Damn."

"At least I ain't been bested by my girl out there," Soda said, waving an arm towards Sylvia. "She could ride circles around you."

"Sure she could," Dally said proudly, and we both looked at him in surprise. "But fuck circles – ain't nobody got my style, not even you." He swung a leg around the fence so he was straddling it, and made like he was riding a bucking bronc, not a rickety old piece of wood.

"Sure don't look like you're riding a horse." Soda laughed, and shoved Dallas lightly.

"I wasn't," Dally said wickedly.

All of a sudden, there was a shout, and I looked up just in time to see Sylvia hit the ground, kicking up a whirlwind of dust. The horse she'd been riding whinnied and tossed his head, then started off at a trot away from where she was lying, prone on the ground.

"Jesus!" Dally yelped, leaping off the fence. "Jesus Christ – Syl!"

Sodapop clambered around the fence after Dallas, a look of alarm on his face. I stared at Sylvia's form, unable to do anything but feel a sense of awful panic and guilt that I'd ever done her wrong. I was just starting after Sodapop when, suddenly, miraculously, I saw her stir.

Dallas had taken a few desperate strides towards her, but stopped short when he saw her move. We watched in wonder as she hopped up effortlessly from the ground, dusted herself off and raced after her mount. She took a running leap and managed to catch the saddle, and, as the surprised horse slowed, pulled herself up enough to seat herself again properly.

Dallas walked backwards to where Sodapop and I were watching Sylvia rein in her rogue horse. His eyes didn't leave her, and he was looking at her with an expression of wonderment that seemed completely foreign to his features.

"Hot damn," Soda said, and he was obviously impressed. "Girl sure is some kind of rider."

Dally leaned against the fence again, his astonishment still plain on his face. "Some kind of something," he said faintly.

Soda grinned. "Whew! Boy, when she went down, I thought she'd gone and snapped her neck. You don't come down offa horse like that and get right back up. Not usually, anyway."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, and put my hand on Soda's shoulder to get him to stop talking. I didn't want to hear about what could have happened, and I was sure Dally didn't either.

Dallas only shrugged and mumbled something inaudible, and we watched Sylvia until she rounded a corner of the stables, out of sight. Suddenly he turned and slammed his fist so hard into the fence that a few pieces of the weathered wood splintered and fell off. Both Soda and I jumped; I guess neither of us has seen it coming.

"Shit!" Dally said, and if he hadn't been clenching his jaw so hard, I reckon it would have come out a scream. "Shit, shit, _shit._"

He kicked viciously at the fence post, and Soda and I jumped again.

"What, what, what kind of … _stupid_ …" He kicked at the fence post again. "Couldn't just sit over here and watch like a normal girl, could she?"

"Take it easy," Soda said. He reached out a hand to stop him, but Dallas only had to look at him and Soda pulled his hand away quickly.

Dally groaned, and ran both hands through his hair. "God_damn_ her." He whirled and stalked towards the stables, but thought better of it and started to pace instead.

"That's what you'd call a delayed reaction," Soda said, under his breath.

I stared at Dally, wondering why he didn't just go after her if he was worried. I wasn't about to suggest it to him though; he looked mad enough to rip the fence up with his teeth.

Dallas turned and stalked back to us suddenly, and Sodapop backed up into me. Dallas stared hard at Soda, and gestured angrily back towards the stables where Sylvia was. "That fucking – _woman_, will be the death of me."

"Okay," Soda said timidly.

Dallas swore under his breath, jammed his fists into his pockets and headed away again towards Two-Bit's car. Soda turned to me, but we could only stare at each other in surprise. In the distance, I could hear Dally cursing, and the metallic sounds of him abusing the car in his anger.

"He'd never admit it, but all this is just cuz he was scared," Soda said finally.

"He seems a lot more mad than scared," I said doubtfully.

"He is mad. He's mad because she made him scared, and he keeps thinking he's past all that," Soda said with a sigh. "He's a damn fucking fool when it comes to girls."

I looked at Soda in surprised – not just because I wouldn't have expected that of Dally, but Soda had never said a word against any of the gang that I'd heard in the time I'd been in Tulsa. "You shouldn't say that. He's right over there."

"I'll say whatever I want on the subject, and nuts to him," Soda said flatly. "He ain't never known how to treat a girl decently. He thinks they all live just to please him. Look at the way he talks to Sandy."

I couldn't help smiling. I didn't like him insulting Dallas, but I had to admire him for standing up for his girlfriend, even when she couldn't hear him.

Soda shook his head, clearly not finished. "He don't treat Sylvia right, either, but that's her business. All I'm saying is he deserves whatever heart attack she gives him for being such an ignoramus."

I laughed. "What makes you the expert, huh?"

Soda shrugged. "Experience?"

I shook my head and glanced back to Dallas. "I'm sure he has just as much of that."

"Oh, sure," Soda said. "I didn't mean that kind of experience. I mean he's dumb enough to think that he can stick around with the same person for as long as he's been with Sylvia and still not give a hang about her. I ain't no Casanova, but at least I know that if I can stand to date the same girl for two-and-a-half years, I reckon I probably like her a little bit."

My jaw dropped. "Two-and-a-half years?" He would have been fifteen when they'd started out. They might as well have been together a lifetime.

Soda nodded. "At least. I mean, they ain't always been together in all that time, but they ain't never really been apart."

I didn't have time to say more, though I was dying to ask more questions on their relationship. Sylvia had emerged, looking dusty but cheerful from the stables and was ambling over to us.

Soda raised his hand, and called out to her – as much a warning to Dallas as it was a greeting to her. I looked over at Dallas and saw that he'd stopped beating on the car and had lit a cigarette. He watched Sylvia come closer and slowly started to walk towards us again.

"Didja see that?" Sylvia was beaming as she came up to us. "Crazy horse almost killed me. It's a good thing I know how to fall properly or I woulda broken something, and Dallas wouldn't have let me hear the last of it. Would you have, honey?"

Dallas took the last few heavy steps towards us and gave her a long look. Then he took a drag off his cigarette and in an icy tone, said: "You fucked that up, pretty well darlin'."

His words weren't even directed at me but I still felt their sting.

Sylvia laughed them off. "Aw, come on," she teased. "You don't fool me. I heard you yell when I fell off."

Dallas flicked the end of his cigarette into the dirt. "Fuck you, bitch," he said carelessly, and walked back towards the car. Soda gave me a pointed look. I couldn't have disagreed with him.

"Tch," Sylvia said, exasperated. "He is such a _baby_ sometimes."

We watched Dallas light another cigarette and lean against the edge of the car, his back towards us. If I'd been Sylvia I would have worried that he was mad, but she didn't seem to care.

"Anyway, I'm all covered in dust and grime. It's hotter than hell out here," she said. "I'm gonna help groom the horses and then take off – oh, what?"

She planted her fists on her hips and stared hard towards Dallas. I glanced at him and saw he'd turned around to glare at Sylvia. For what reason, I had no idea. She hadn't said anything offensive, and anyway he was too far away to hear her.

"I ain't going to you. You come over here if you want to yell at me," Sylvia said under her breath, and shook her head at him. He scowled at her again and turned away.

"Such a baby," she repeated, and turned abruptly back to the stables.

I barely had time to turn around before Dallas breezed past us after her.

"Wait for me," he said to Soda. "I ain't got a ride and I hate the damn bus." He disappeared after Sylvia into the barn.

Soda glanced over his shoulder at the few horses and riders still cantering around the ring, then looked at me. "You mind … ?"

He just looked so eager. "Go ahead," I said, laughing. "I won't tell Darry."

He grinned at me, and I could see the old Soda in him, plain as day. "Thanks."

The day was hot and getting hotter, and sitting by my lonesome on the fender of Two-Bit's car got old mighty fast. I knew I shouldn't, especially after the night I'd had, but I found myself heading after Dallas into the barn. My reasoning that it was just to get them to move faster fell short of getting rid of the queasy feeling of guilt in my stomach.

The barn was cooler, on account of it being so dark and empty. I crept along the stalls, and was just about to call out for them when I heard Sylvia laugh.

"You _were_ worried," she said gleefully.

"I'm fucking allowed to be worried when my fucking girlfriend almost breaks her fucking neck falling off of a fucking horse."

"What happened to that famous vocabulary of yours, Dally?"

"Fuck it."

Sylvia laughed again. She sounded like she was in a nearby stall, and although I knew I shouldn't spy, I couldn't seem to stop myself creeping closer and closer until she came into view. She had a brush in one hand and was idly coming out the mane of the horse she'd been riding. She wasn't getting much real work done; Dallas stood behind her, both arms wrapped around her, tightly enough to keep her moving her arms too much.

"Gotta finish grooming him, Dal," she murmured.

"You're just petting him, now," Dally mumbled into her hair. "C'mere and pet me. I reckon I need it more."

She laughed again, only it wasn't the usual hard, sarcastic laugh I heard her use. "What am I gonna do with you, Dally?"

"I'm still around, ain't I?" He sighed, but he wasn't angry. "Obviously, whatever you gotta do with me, you done it already."

"Got you broken in, do I?"

"Don't fucking push it."

"But you love me, don't you?"

Her question was met with a silence, but it wasn't a silence that I liked.

Dally sighed finally. "Well, I don't hate you. And I sure as shit don't _like_ you. You piss me off."

"Gee, Dally, I should fall off more horses, if it makes you this nice," Sylvia said, smiling.

"You should. It would save me some trouble."

I'd heard enough. I crept away again slowly, thinking that Two-Bit and Sodapop had it all wrong. They weren't breaking up anytime soon. Dallas knew just how much he liked Sylvia, and now, so did I.

XXXX

**A/N: **I know my writing skills have taken a hit from the break. I probably should have let this chapter sit a little longer, but I really wanted to post something today, just to get my ass in gear. Please feel free to lambaste me for it. ;)


	15. Daddy Dallas

**Chapter 15: Daddy Dallas**

**A/N:** Okay. Um.

Well, sorry. I'm slow.

I am back to fanfiction for the time being, and I have resolved to properly finish this story.

**Disclaimer:** S.E. Hinton owns all of this, including Dallas, the poor woman. We all of us owe her thanks for being gracious enough to let us continue to dream of sticky situations for her characters to get into. (Dirty.)

And on that note, this chapter is particularly hard for me to pull off properly. (Dirty!) Call it how you see it, guys!

xxxx

Dallas and Sylvia claimed the backseat on the car ride home, and I closed my ears as best as I could to their whispers and rustlings. Sodapop kept up a happy stream of chatter about the horses, which allowed me the relief of being silent. I reckon it annoyed Dallas a touch though, because when we let them off at Sylvia's place, he gave Soda a look and said he preferred to work in the quiet of a bedroom, anyway.

On the short trip home I realized I knew exactly what he meant.

I was so deep in thought that I hardly realized when we'd stopped at the Curtis house. All through dinner and late into that night I thought, but no matter what, I couldn't draw any different conclusion other than that all of the uncomfortable incidents I'd experienced in Tulsa had been a direct result of me thinking about Dallas, and he was still apparently in love with Sylvia. What was worse, I'd only been able to come up with one solution.

It wasn't easy, keeping my mind away from that boy. It didn't matter what I was doing that week, I found myself thinking of Dallas. When washing shirts, I thought of his mess of a bedroom in his homeless house. When doing the dishes, I thought of the horrifying moment when I'd upended a bowl of water on his lap. When Sodapop and Steve stumbled home late one night, Steve stretching out on the couch smelling of whiskey, Soda tumbling into bed smelling of smoke, I thought I'd go crazy missing that tow-headed boy. It seemed so funny that I'd managed to go for seven years without so much as a letter and hardly a thought wasted on him, and now going seven days without him seemed like the hardest thing in the world.

It was made a little easier by the fact that Sylvia had stopped showing up at Gina's. The first day Sandy and Evie had shown up by themselves, frowns on their faces, I'd been a little surprised, but not worried. By the third day, we were all worried, and we put our heads together over an ice-cream float. Evie and Sandy had been by her house, but there'd been no answer.

Evie was sure that her stepmother had something to do it. Her large, mascara-dark eyes were solemn as she recounted the details from the horror novel she'd been reading, where an evil stepmother locks her daughter in the cellar because she's a witch.

Sandy figured that Dallas had kissed another girl.

On the fourth day, a note had turned up that dissolved all our suspicions and kindled our curiosity. It was taped outside Sylvia's bedroom window (where the shades had long been drawn) and it said:

"Girls.

I am alive and on a bed of heartake and pain. I am seeing noone so do not even try. This is a trajedie.

Sylvia

p.s. If you see Dallas send him to me NOW."

But at least wondering about Sylvia kept me from wondering about Dallas.

Without the frenzy of thoughts about Dallas, my mind was also remarkably clear to listen to my cousins and their friends. I discovered something about Sodapop very quickly; he _was_ hardworking and sweet, and through careful application of these qualities he had the uncanny ability of being able to fool everyone into thinking that he wasn't up to no good.

At least, everyone but me. I was alert enough to see him sneak into the house holding a speeding ticket, and hide it in his room away from Darry's eyes.

"Just cuz he's got enough troubles already to deal with," Sodapop had whispered seriously. "And anyway, _everyone_ likes a drag race."

But having the time to think was a dangerous thing in a place so full of memories as Tulsa. I found myself easily straying ground away from my promises to Momma, and I felt twice as guilty in light of the other promises I'd made to her that I'd so easily broken already.

It was a hot afternoon in the middle of the week and I had the day off, which was almost a curse. I'd have rather been working, with something to do and the company of Ginny. Ponyboy was alright for company, but he too often had his nose buried in a book or was off gallivanting around town with the mysterious Johnny Cade, who, the last brief time we'd met, had gotten so bold as to say, "Hi. I liked your cookies," before ducking quickly out of the house.

This afternoon was more boring than the rest, and when Johnny turned up as usual with his gentle tapping on the door, I followed Ponyboy out onto the porch.

"Where are y'all going?" I asked, poking him gently in the back.

Ponyboy exchanged a look with Johnny, who said nothing. "Just for a walk, I guess."

"Can I come?"

Pony looked to Johnny again, but his only reaction was to duck his head and kick his shoe against the ground.

"Sure," Ponyboy said.

We walked along in silence, Johnny and me on either side of Ponyboy. Johnny had his fists in his jeans pocket, a cigarette dangling out the corner of his mouth. He stared firmly at the ground and didn't hardly say a word. I couldn't for the life of me figure out if he was a dangerous hood, or a shy kid, and his one addition to the conversation didn't help.

"You're friends with Dallas?" he'd asked out of nowhere.

"I … suppose so?" I replied. I didn't hardly know if I qualified as Dally's friend, but I couldn't very well say I wasn't one.

Johnny took a long drag off his cigarette, and looked at me for the first time. "Oh. That's tuff enough, I guess." And then he lapsed back into silence.

I'd been worried they would be up to some kind of juvenile pranks, but they had been serious about just taking a walk. We wandered down to the DX and bought a few Pepsis from the icebox there, courtesy of Soda, and then walked almost aimlessly around the neighbourhood sipping them. Johnny and Ponyboy spoke occasionally, but they both mumbled so badly to each other that I found it too difficult to pay attention.

The heat was stifling and the sunlight was so bright and I suppose I'd been daydreaming, but all at once I found myself on the corner of my old street.

I stopped up short, remembering blearily the half-block walk home from where we stood.

"Susie?" Ponyboy asked, and I looked up to see him and Johnny looking at me curiously. "Something wrong?"

"This … is my old street," I said softly.

Pony nodded, looking confused. "Do you want to see your old home or something?"

I shook my head. I don't suppose he remembered much about his uncle, he'd been so young. I looked past Ponyboy down the street and wondered if he was still there.

"Let's go," I said sharply, shaking myself away from those dangerous thoughts.

Pony looked more confused than ever, but he followed me as I turned around. I was leading the way now, getting away from those memories.

"Hey, Susie, you sure you don't want to see it?" Ponyboy caught up with me easily.

"No. I …." I struggled to explain it. I would have thought he'd already know. "I just don't want to see it."

"Sure," Pony said. I could tell he didn't fully understand, but he had the good sense to drop it. "Let's head home. Too hot to be out, anyway."

"Old houses ain't nice to look at," Johnny agreed, so quietly I almost didn't hear him. His black eyes flashed nervously at me. "I wouldn't wanna look at mine neither."

xxxx

After a Dallas-less week, I was bored almost to tears, and was thrilled when Soda suggested we go down into town and grab a burger for dinner instead of eating in. Ponyboy agreed enthusiastically, but as soon as Soda mentioned Sandy was coming in, his expression clouded over.

"You won't want me there," he said uneasily. "Just go without me."

"Pony, come on, you like Sandy," Soda said soothingly, but Ponyboy was stubborn. We left him alone in the house with a book and a plate of leftovers. Darry had scarpered off not ten minutes after stepping from his post-work bath. Something about a girl named Bonnie – _and he didn't want to hear about it_ from Sodapop, whatever that meant.

The burger place was cheery and well-lit, and I wore a nice skirt, my Sylvia costume buried at the bottom of my travel bag. I felt nervous though, and almost like I wasn't quite dressed right, though I was wearing my own clothes. Still, it felt nice to be going somewhere that wasn't that old, dirty roadhouse.

Soda held the door open for me, but stopped me just inside the door.

"Just thought you should know," he said casually. "Sandy's meeting us here … with Two-Bit."

My stomach clenched for a minute. I hadn't seen Two-Bit in awhile, although he did occasionally stop by the diner to see Ginny. I didn't really think he'd quite forgiven me for acting so terribly about Dallas.

"That's fine," I lied. "It'll be good to see him."

"I'll bet." Soda gave me a grin and a look I didn't understand.

I followed Sodapop slowly into the restaurant, my stomach a knot of nerves. I caught a quick glimpse of Two-Bit over Sodapop's shoulder as we approached, and I was sorry to say he didn't look all that happy.

"Hey there," Soda said cheerily, dropping into a seat in the near-empty booth opposite Two-Bit. "Bring a date, Two-Bit?"

Two-Bit glanced meaningfully at the empty seats beside him and Sodapop. I expected him to say something smart, but all he said was: "No."

"Good, cuz I did," Soda said, to my horror, and pointed at me.

Two-Bit gave me his best impression of a stony look, but the corners of his mouth were twitching. "That's nice," he mumbled, but hardly a second passed before he burst out with, "But if you two yokels get married, I'd think twice before having any kids."

Soda laughed and swiped at him playfully. "Sandy's meeting me here," he said, by way of response.

"That's the way to do it. Make 'em meet you. None of that running around stuff."

I forced myself to look down at the table, and not look around wildly after that recognizable voice like I wanted.

"Hello, Dallas," Soda said wearily.

"What? Ain't happy to see me? Get more and more like that chick of yours every day." Dallas pushed up beside me and lit a cigarette. He nodded at Two-Bit, and took a drag, and completely ignored me.

"Sodapop didn't have to pick up his girl because he knows she'll want to walk over to be with him here," Two-Bit explained. He gave Dallas an innocent look. "What's your excuse?"

"Fuck off," Dallas said carelessly. "And Sylvia's already here."

Two-Bit raised an eyebrow. "Of course. And are you the only one who can see her?"

"Fuck you." This one had more bite to it, and I almost couldn't blame him. Two-Bit wasn't exactly being nice. "She's right over there."

I looked over, surprised. Sylvia was making her way towards Dallas, a stony look on her face. It'd been awhile since I'd seen her; she looked pale and drawn and a little less pretty, and I wondered if I'd just remembered her more powerful. She certainly looked as if she'd been on a bed of pain.

"I haven't seen her in awhile," I said in a small voice, keeping my eyes steadily trained on the table.

"Me either," Dally said breezily, as if he'd just now realized. "Huh."

She sidled up to the table and pulled him close. "We have to talk," she whispered.

Dallas put his arm around her, giving Two-Bit a pointed look. He clearly didn't pick up Sylvia's serious tone. "How's my girl been doin'?"

Sylvia pushed him away and took a breath. "I'm _pregnant._"

"No, you ain't." Dallas didn't miss a beat.

There was a silence as the rest of us tried to catch up to him. Two-Bit's mouth had dropped open, and Soda went still on the bench beside me. I felt stunned with the realization that all of Sylvia's hints hadn't been just for show. She was pregnant? A thrill of horror went up my spine, and I suddenly felt an overwhelming surge of anger and pity all at the same time.

Sylvia was looking at him in disbelief. "Dallas, that wasn't a question. I know I'm pregnant. I'm … late."

"You ain't pregnant," Dally said simply.

The noise in the area had quieted down as people tried to hear their conversation. With Miss Sylvia the Melodramatic, it wouldn't be hard. She was making a scene as usual, but I was surprised as anything with how cool Dallas was acting.

"Dallas, for fuck's sake!" Sylvia shrieked. She was such a lady. "I'm serious! You're gonna be a fucking daddy unless you do something about it."

"No, I ain't," Dallas said, almost gently.

Sylvia burst into tears. People were openly staring now; from what I'd seen she wasn't much of a crier. I couldn't help feeling bad for her now; she looked awful upset, and Dallas wasn't helping. As shocked as I was, I tiny part of me thought how nice it was that I was free to stare at him as much as I pleased, since half the bar was doing it, too.

"Can't you do something other than just stand there and say 'you ain't, you ain't' …" Sylvia sobbed.

"Shh, calm down." Dallas reached for her and pulled her in close, stroking her hair. "You ain't pregnant. We been careful, ain't we? Quit cryin', you're messin' up your pretty face."

He kissed her gently and she quieted.

"See? Ain't nothin' to be worried about, okay?" he said, his voice low and kinder than I'd ever heard it. "You crazy chick, always gettin' worked up over nothing. Calm the fuck down already."

I would have slapped a man if he'd spoken to me like that, but Sylvia just laid her head on his shoulder and let him lead her out of the room.

"Holy hell," Two-Bit said, half-disbelieving and half-amused. "Dally got a girl knocked up?"

"Looks like it," Soda said soberly. "Though I wouldn't bet money on either Sylvia or Dallas' word in this case."

"Or any other case," Two-Bit agreed.

We sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, Soda fidgeting and getting up every so often to check the time.

"Late again?" Two-Bit said, nodding at the empty seat beside Soda where I assumed Sandy was supposed to sit. "Uh …" he glanced over his shoulder where Dallas had disappeared. "Different kind of late, I mean."

"Yeah," Soda said distractedly. "Hope she's okay."

Two-Bit rolled his eyes. "She's fine. She's just a broad."

"_I'm_ a broad, and I'm right on time," I said indignantly.

"You didn't walk over here, all prettied up like that," Two-Bit pointed out. "Not unless you run behind the Curtis's old truck, and you ain't sweatin'. Not something you could do in this fucking god-awful heat with Sodapop driving." He considered a second. "Maybe could with Darry driving. He likes them speeding limits."

I folded my arms. "Speaking of 'limits', I wouldn't mind if _you_ minded your language, Keith Mathews."

Two-Bit looked at me, frowning slightly, and then to my surprise a slow smile spread across his face until he was beaming that old, feel-good smile of his. "'Scuse me," he said easily. "I guess I oughtta mind my manners."

I smiled tentatively back at him. "Yes, please."

It did feel wonderful to be me again.

xxxx

Sandy was really late; even after Sodapop telephoned her from the booth in the back of the restaurant, she still didn't manage to make it before Dallas came back.

He pushed his way through the swinging door into the room and stumbled to the serving counter. A group of boys on the other side of the room gave him a scattered round of applause, and he raised his middle finger at him distractedly. He made his way over to our table, a bottle of beer in his hand (I don't know how – surely he couldn't be mistaken for twenty-one?), and plunked himself down on the bench. He sat staring at nothing for a long minute and then slowly raised the bottle to his lips.

In the awkward silence that followed, I saw Two-Bit exchange a look with Soda, who sighed resignedly. He hesitated for a second, but I suppose the temptation to ask was just too much.

Soda turned to Dallas and took a deep breath. "So, is she pregnant?"

"No, no she _ain't_ and you can shut the fuck up, Curtis," Dallas snapped. "I ain't dumb enough to get a fucking chick fucking pregnant. Jesus Christ. I leave the dumb shit like that to you."

I gasped. I couldn't help it; Soda hadn't hardly said two words to him, and Dallas was being so mean.

"Someone's not so cool anymore," Two-Bit said quietly in my ear.

Dallas swore. "Fucking _pregnant_. Fucking dumb bitch. Don't know shit. Ain't got two fucking braincells to rub together and she's runnin' her mouth all over the bar saying she's fucking pregnant. Jesus fucking Christ."

Never, even the many times I'd heard Dallas swear, had I heard someone speak those foul words with such fluency and violence. For the first time, I looked at Dallas and I could see plain as day that he wasn't a nice boy.

Dallas lit up a cigarette and took a long drag off of it. When he let his breath out it shook slightly.

"Hey man, it's okay," Soda said surprised. "I thought you were cool."

"I am. Cuz she ain't fucking pregnant." Dallas took another drag off his cigarette and I could see his hand shaking, too. He was strung a lot tighter than he looked. I marvelled at how calm he'd been with Sylvia, when it was obvious now that he wasn't nearly as cool as he said he was.

Dallas let out a short laugh. "She ain't pregnant, and anyway if she was, I wouldn't still be here, savvy?"

Soda frowned, but before he could say anything, a slim, dark-haired man sidled up behind Dallas.

"Dallas," he said, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. It carried just fine.

"Fuck off, Shepard," Dallas said tensely.

Shepard lit up a cigarette, his eyes on Dallas. I could see the laughter in them, though he didn't even smile. He took a slow drag off the cigarette and cocked his head. "So, is the bastard yours?"

Dallas shoved him hard. "You shut the fuck up."

Shepard lifted his hands in surrender. "Just saying," he smiled, not nicely, "that baby's got a lot of possible daddies."

"I said shut the fuck up about my girlfriend, Shepard!" Dallas launched himself at Shepard, but he'd barely connected with him before another man was in his way, holding him back.

"Cool out," the man said. "He's speaking the truth, and you know it."

Dallas swore and punched the man square in the face. The man cursed, tumbling backwards, his hand scrambling over his bloodied nose. Dally whirled around and sent another punch in Shepard's direction, but missed. I saw Shepard spin smoothly, a look of deep concentration on his face, his fist aimed straight for Dally's temple and then I had to look away.

Soda leapt up, out of the booth and Two-Bit was practically jumping out of his seat. He probably would have, but I was in the way, and I wasn't about to move so he could go hurt himself as well. Even with my eyes closed and my hands on my ears I could hear the thumps and shouts of a real fight as plain as day. A few girls were screaming, and the guys were hollering; I couldn't tell if they wanted the fight to be over or get worse. Then I heard Soda's voice shouting something, and all of a sudden the noise died down. I didn't even really want to but … I had to look.

Dallas was swearing but being turned away by Sodapop. His nose and hand were bloody but he didn't seem to even notice. Shepard was on the other side of the room, climbing to his feet, one hand clamped to his side. He looked like he'd been knocked down, but there wasn't any blood on _his_ face.

Still, Dally was triumphant. "Next time you keep your trap shut, or I'll kick your ass even harder."

Shepard shot him a venomous look that melted quickly into a smirk. "Alright, I admit it. You're the only one stupid enough to be the father."

Dallas' look soured.

"She fucks the rest of us with rubbers."

There were a few laughs before Dallas wrestled out of Soda's grip and spun around. He kicked at a chair and sent it flying. Then in one smooth move he flicked out a knife and held it straight out in front of him. "You fucking take that back!" he yelled.

"Cool it," Shepard said, patiently. There were murmurs of assent from throughout the crowd. I wished fervently that I had kept my eyes covered, but I couldn't look away now.

Shepard held out a hand in an offering of peace, but the grin on his face was malicious. "I take it back."

Dally glared at him, then at the onlookers. "Anyone else got something to say about my girl?" The room had gone deadly silent. No one met his challenge.

"You keep your mouth shut about Sylvia," he said, turning a dangerous look on Shepard. "She ain't sleeping around and she ain't pregnant. I'll fucking gut anyone who says otherwise, you hear?"

Shepard didn't loose his smile and he sure didn't agree, but Dallas didn't wait for him to. He stalked out of the room, cursing a blue streak. I could hear him clatter down the stairs and knew he had gone to find Sylvia.

I was shaking; Dallas' performance had effected me a lot more than it had Shepard. Two-Bit put his hand gently on my shoulder and gave me a reassuring half-smile. I tried to smile back but I just couldn't shake off the feeling I'd gotten when Dally had jumped up to fight. I'd been so scared – of _him_.

"I sure don't get that kid," Two-Bit said to me, once the bar started to get noisy again. "He'll tell you till he's blue in the face that Sylvia don't mean shit to him, that he'll never marry her and never love no one 'sides his own sorry ass, but you'd be hard pressed to find another man willing to do the stupid shit he does defending her name, even against all common sense." He shook his head. "I'd like to know what Sylvia's got to make him such a crazy fucker."

"A lot of high heeled shoes, and perfectly shaped eyebrows," I said morosely.

Two-Bit laughed softly at my pitiful joke, and rubbed the back of his head. He motioned to the busted chair Dally had kicked. "I was thinking maybe she'd stuck a bur under his blanket to make him rear like a demon horse like that."

I shivered again. "Well, I don't know about that. I ain't no horsewoman."

"No?" Two-Bit said quickly, looking straight into my eyes.

I looked away. I wasn't quite sure what I meant, myself.

"Well, it's smart of you. Riding only gets you hurt, anyway," Two-Bit said simply. "Wouldn't want that."

I knew he meant it and it made me glad, even as uneasy as I felt over Dallas. I put my hand on his arm and gave him my best smile, but to my surprise, his cheery look faltered a little.

"Horse riding would only get me hurt?" I prompted, unsure if I'd read him wrong.

He cleared his throat and looked down. "Yeah. Just ask Sodapop."

Sodapop?

"Tore a ligament riding horses, now he can't hardly walk proper – no, that ain't right, but for awhile he couldn't. Sometimes he can't walk proper after doing the only riding he's allowed to do now, if you know what I – no, sorry, that ain't smart. You don't want to hear that … though, his kind of horse ain't nearly as prone to kicking people as your kind of horse. Not a real horse."

He cleared his throat again and moved his arm from under my hand. "Anyway," he said loudly, taking a deep breath. He gave me his usual winning smile. "What I mean to say is, would you like a coke?"

"Sure," I said, amazed. He was a quick one, but usually I could follow his train of thoughts.

"Me too. I'll get 'em," he said, scootching around the edge of the booth away from me and hopping to his feet. He took a few quick steps away and then looked back over his shoulder. "Stay put this time, alright?"

I didn't have a clue what he meant – "this time" – but I wasn't going anywhere.


	16. The Marriage of Dallas Winston

**Chapter 16: The Marriage of Dallas Winston**

**A/N:** Holy crap, it's an update. I imagine none of you stuck around, since it's been a year or more, and I can hardly blame y'all, but if you DO stick around, I'll update every week, no shit.

I have no one to blame but myself for this, but since the break, my writing is super-rusty, and I feel like everything is too melodramatic or too goofy. It does pick up at a dramatic place though.

Also, in spite of the fact that Dallas is this big, bad gangster from NYC, I love poking fun at the fact that he's still 17. Perhaps I've made him too vulnerable, and book-Dally would give me a long look and say: "Doll, I woulda beat it the fuck outta there before taking that kind of crap." But I suppose I'm operating on the fact that he'd say that, and I wouldn't believe him anyway. Regardless, I'd love to hear your opinions.

Enough self-justification. On with the fic!

P.S. No nod to the book in this one, but a little reference to Tex.

P.P.S. Still don't know a damn thing about horses.

**Disclaimer: **Ms. S.E. Hinton owns all.

**To Recap: **16-year-old Susie Shipman comes to Tulsa to visit her cousins, the Curtises, and fall in love all over again with that quintessential ladies' man Dallas Winston – in the process, trampling all over the heart of one devoted and talkative Two-Bit Mathews. She's currently going-on-bffs with Dally's main squeeze, Sylvia, who has just announced publicly that she's about to pop out a mini-Winston. Dallas has responded, to Soda, Susie and Two-Bit, that she's full of something that's not a baby, but were she ever to get pregnant, he'd think nothing of leaving her to handle it on her own. Susie compares this assholery to the ever-present and ever-forgiving Two-Bit, and makes a romantic switcheroo decision that she hopes her heart will catch up with soon. And GO:

xxxx

Evie took a long drag off her cigarette and quirked an eyebrow. "What I want to know is would you actually wear white."

Sandy giggled. "Is that appropriate? Wouldn't it be a shotgun wedding?"

Sylvia rolled her eyes. "No kidding. My daddy _loves_ him. He can't wait until we're married. He's had the shotgun oiled and ready since Dally picked me up on our first date."

"I'll just bet he did," Ginny said loudly, from her position sitting cross-legged on Sylvia's bedroom floor.

Sylvia shot her a look and waved her hand for the fries. "They're cut from the same cowhide. If he'd had one whiff of what was going on this week, me and Dally'd be man and woman already. He'd jump at the chance."

"How in the name of God does your father love Dallas?" Sandy said incredulously.

Sylvia laughed. "Oh, Daddy always wanted a boy to talk rodeo with. 'Course he does alright with me, but I swear, sometimes I think Dally's part horse. He talks to them."

"Because he nuts," Ginny said flatly.

"Or because nobody else wants to talk to him," Evie added.

Sylvia scowled, but she looked too tired to fight back. "'Course he's hit Dallas once or twice over the years, or made him muck out the stalls until he couldn't stand up straight. But Dally always deserved it, and he keeps on going back, anyway. They get along alright."

"That's a small miracle," Sandy said wonderingly. "I couldn't imagine my daddy ever getting along so easy with Sodapop. Every time they're in the same room more'n five minutes, Soda sweats clean through his shirt."

Sylvia smirked. "I didn't say Dallas wasn't scared of him."

Her and Sandy and Evie were sprawled across her bed, eating French fries that Ginny and I had brought up from the diner. I'd gone with the girls after my shift to see Sylvia, all three of us knowing it was the decent thing to do and dying of curiosity besides. Ginny had hurriedly followed me, muttering something about me needing a chaperone.

Sylvia was makeup-less and pale, but cheerful, and announced as soon as we'd arrived that "lovely ol' Aunt Flo's been by to un-knock me up."

It left us free, now that nothing real could come of it, to plan out the particulars of the tragedy. Mostly, it left us free to decide how exactly Sylvia and Dallas' marriage would go.

I was keeping my mouth shut good on the subject and would have closed my ears if I could. Dallas was nothing to me no more. But it took an awful lot of work keeping him nothing.

"I don't think it'd be so bad," Sylvia said, twirling a fry thoughtfully. "Can't imagine it so different except we would have a place of our own. Dallas don't go to school anyway."

"Wouldn't be so different except for the little spawn of Satan you'd have running around taking up all your time," Ginny pointed out.

Sylvia gave an involuntary little shudder. "Thank fuck it didn't take."

"You really think Dallas would be any better as a husband than a boyfriend?" Sandy tore a French fry into little pieces, not meeting Sylvia's eyes. "Don't you reckon that trapping him would make him mad enough at you to, well, to-"

"Oh, Dallas ain't never hit me," Sylvia said carelessly. "Yelled himself hoarse but never laid so much as a finger on me. And if he ever tried I would cut off his misters and feed them to him."

Evie snorted but Ginny grimaced. "You talk big all you want Sylvia, but if he decided he wanted to beat you up there wouldn't be a damn thing you could do."

Sylvia stared at her wonderingly. "Who invited the killjoy?"

Ginny scowled. "Well, someone needs to be around to knock sense into y'all. Ain't nobody here could take on one of those boys if they get an idea in their heads to come after you, and trapping a boy into marriage is a tried and true way of suggesting that idea. For chrissakes, do y'all live on the East side or not? Wise up."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"I just can't imagine Sodapop ever doing that, even if I did get pregnant," Sandy said finally. "I think he'd do right."

"Well, no fucking danger there," Sylvia muttered. "You'd need to actually lose the chastity belt first."

Evie shrugged. "Stevie's got a temper but he'd die before letting someone else take care of his problems. I reckon he'd be the first to suggest we get married." She hesitated. "And I know he's got his reasons for wanting to avoid being a deadbeat dad."

Ginny glanced at Sylvia, who was stubbornly refusing to look at her. "We all know who the most likely candidate would be for smacking his wife around."

"Fuck you, bitch," Sylvia snarled, looking up, her eyes blazing. "You don't know _shit_ about my boyfriend."

"Sylvia," Evie started and we all looked at her.

"What, you too?" Sylvia's eyes widened in fury.

Evie twisted her hands and looked away. When she turned back I was surprised to see tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. "I just don't want to see you chained to someone who's gonna take it out on you."

"He's never hit me!"

"But he will." Tears dribbled down Evie's cheeks and she sniffed. "If he ain't the type to, I dunno who is."

In the silence that followed, I plucked a few tissues from Sylvia's vanity. Evie took them without looking at me, dabbing at her makeup streaked cheeks.

"Jesus Christ on a bicycle," Sylvia said irritably. "He ain't hit me, I'm telling you. He would never. He's swore it."

"And no one around here who's ever swore that before has gone back on it," Ginny said sourly.

"Shut the fuck up!" Sylvia said, her voice getting louder and angrier.

"Well, excuse me for not wanting to see you end up black and blue over some hood!" Ginny yelled, standing up.

"That wouldn't fucking happen." Sylvia struggled up from the bed, but Ginny had already grabbed her purse and made for the door.

"Alright, no, it wouldn't, and you know why?" she said impatiently, her hand on the doorknob. "Because he wouldn't stick around, and you know it. He'd be outta here the second you started putting on the baby weight. He ain't cut out to be a daddy."

Sylvia stared at her, open-mouthed. Ginny yanked the door open and was through by the time Sylvia could speak.

"Well, I guess you would know something about that, wouldn't you?" she taunted, as Ginny left the room. "Where's your daddy now, huh?"

Ginny slammed the door loud enough to shake the house.

Sylvia tossed her hair and lit a cigarette, but I could see it in her face that she was sorry. Still, she looked at each of us pointedly before continuing. "I ain't so dumb I'd pick a man who'd beat on me."

I felt my stomach twist. I could too easily picture it, Dallas smirking and shouting in anger, then his face earnestly puzzled. He never seemed to be able to understand the hurt he caused.

"Ain't none of our momma's were dumb neither," I said before I could stop myself. "And I don't doubt all of our daddies made promises they didn't keep."

They all looked at me. Evie's eyes were still watering, and Sandy looked like she wasn't far behind. But Sylvia's mouth had opened slightly when I'd spoke and for a second she looked frightened.

"_You_ think Dallas would hit me?" she asked slowly.

I looked away. "I don't like to," I said softly. "I'd like to think he's decent enough that he'd do what he says. But if you want the truth, I don't ever seem to be able to predict what he does, and I known him since he was a little kid."

I expected her to swear at me, or snap back that she knew better, but for once Sylvia was silent.

"You think he'd leave?" she asked finally.

I took a deep breath. My head was spinning with what I was about to do. "Well, he said he wanted to. Last night after you left."

Sylvia's eyes widened. "He said he'd leave."

I fidgeted, already regretting saying anything. "Well, maybe not in so many words."

"You're lying," she said. "He said it just like that, didn't he?"

"Sylvia," Sandy whispered. "I'm sure he was just scared." She met my eyes and I could read them like a book. Soda and Two-Bit had filled her in when she shown up the night before and though she hadn't said anything then, I could tell she'd wanted to. Now I could see she felt the same as me. Neither of us wanted to be the one to really break them up.

Sylvia shook her head angrily. "No, y'all can't go off on him like that and then try and convince me otherwise. That ain't fair. He said he'd leave?" she asked again.

Sandy looked away.

I stared at my hands and shook my head 'no.' I couldn't figure out how as soon as I didn't want them to break up no more, suddenly it seemed all too easy.

Sylvia exhaled slowly, her eyes determined. "No one leaves me."

xxxx

Sodapop was home late for dinner the next night, and boy did he make an entrance.

"Who here spilled the beans to Sylvia," he hollered, hands on hips, his brown eyes boring holes into me.

"Sandy," I said simply.

"Oh, I don't believe that," he said, pulling out a chair and plopping down into it.

Darry looked back and forth between us. "Spilled the beans on what?"

Ponyboy propped his head up on his hand, resting his elbow on the table. "Got anything to do with Dally?"

"Sylvia's knocked up," Soda told him and Ponyboy went tomato-red.

Darry swatted at him. "Don't tell the kid that."

Soda grinned. "Oh come on. It's not like I told him _how_."

I could practically see the steam coming out of Ponyboy's ears. "She's not pregnant," I said soothingly. "And Soda, he ain't supposed to know about that!"

Soda rolled his eyes. "Oh, he'll be fourteen next month, if he don't know by then, he's gonna be the first fourteen-year-old in the country ever to get that far without knowing."

"I _know_." Ponyboy ducked his head when we looked at him. "I just ain't like thinking about it."

Soda and Darry exchanged a grin.

"Well, keep it that way until you can't, mister," Darry said, laughing. "You're enough trouble as it is."

Pony shot him a look and pushed back from the table. "Can I be excused? I'm done."

"Pony, we was just kidding," Soda started, but Ponyboy hopped up and was out the back door before he could say more. "Darry, didja have to rag on him like that?"

Darry shrugged, looking guilty. "Dunno, Sodapop, the kid drives me bonkers. The words just come out before I can think about it, and him being so damn sensitive ain't helping nothing."

Soda reached over and scrapped the little bit of dinner Ponyboy had left onto his own plate. "Well, anyway," he said, through a mouthful of potatoes, "Sylvia and Dallas is quits again. She dumped ol'Dally at the Dingo last night, and boy, did she look serious. Said it was the last time she was made the fool because of him, and he could run out on some other chick next time. _And_, she had some pretty detailed information about what he said to us the other night when she wasn't even around." He looked at me pointedly.

"Well, don't you think she had the right to know?" I said defensively. "Sandy and me, we didn't say anything that wasn't true."

He shrugged. "Wasn't your call to make, Susie. It's between him and her, ain't it?"

"But what if he did run out on her?"

Soda waved his fork at me dismissively. "Oh, she wasn't pregnant. She just likes to make trouble. And anyway, if she did end up knocked up she'd only have herself to blame. Ain't no one forcing her on Dally."

I put my fork down and looked at Darry, who shrugged at me.

"Sorry, Susie, but it's the truth," he said seriously. "Now if you were knocked up by Dally I'd have him at the altar 'fore he could count to ten, and if he even _thought_ about running out I'd break every bone in his body. But that wouldn't happen, on account of you being a decent girl. Sylvia's, well," he rubbed his head, looking a little embarrassed, "you know the kinds of things she gets up to with Dally, and it's her own fault."

"And Dallas' fault!" I said indignantly.

Soda and Darry laughed. "Well, now, you can't hardly blame Dally for not turning it down," Soda said with a wicked grin.

"It's Dally's fault he's dating that kind of girl in the first place," Darry said, nodding to me. "But, well, you can't fault him for doing what comes naturally."

"But you could fault her?"

Soda and Darry both sighed.

"I got the dishes," Darry said finally, grabbing them up.

"I ain't done," Soda protested, snatching his back. "An' Susie, since you went to the trouble of breaking the two of 'em up, you can keep me company picking up ol'Dally from the stables. Don't suppose he'll be getting a ride back with Sylvia's old man."

"Well, seeing as being with Sylvia is so wrong, I suppose I did him right by helping her leave him," I said hotly.

Soda looked at his plate. "Oh now, Susie. Don't get like that. Come on, you know none of us like the way Dallas treats his girl, but Sylvia, well, she brings a lot of it on herself. Like Darry said, if he ever treated you like that, there'd be hell to pay."

"I don't see how it's fair that she deserves it just cuz she ain't got you and Darry," I argued, but Soda had already stood up and was cramming the last of his roll in his mouth.

"Come on," he said, mouth full yet again. "You wanna come with me to the stables or not?"

I followed him out to the truck still fuming, somehow imagining that I was gonna give Dallas a piece of my mind for how he'd treated Sylvia.

But by the time we'd gotten to the stables, I couldn't see anymore how it would help.

xxxx

Sylvia's father looked almost like another person out here in the wide-open instead of cooped up in a church. It'd shocked me something awful to recognize the lanky man his forties coming up towards the fence where me and Soda had parked Darry's truck.

"Hi there," he said, looking at me curiously. "I help you folks?"

"We've met before. I'm a friend of Sylvia's," I said politely. "Hello again."

Sylvia's father nodded, but his eyes slid over me only briefly before settling on Sodapop – I could tell he didn't recognize me at all.

"Sylvia ain't here today, but here's Mr. Curtis! It has been awhile," he said, giving Soda a broad smile. "When we goin' get you riding again?"

Soda twisted his hands together, a wistful smile on his face. "I'm working on it. We're just here picking up, well – Dallas."

The man's face clouded over. "Oh, he's here alright. Kid can't seem to stay away. You'd think he'd wise up to the fact that working in close proximity to your girlfriend's father is bad for your health, but I guess he ain't that smart. There he is now."

Dally was trudging up from the stables, looking dirty and tired. He caught sight of Sylvia's father and stopped dead in his tracks, grimacing, before soldering on, grimly.

"Here he is, my future son-in-law," Sylvia's father said dryly, as Dally reached us. "Till he up and quit, anyway."

I felt my mouth drop open and looked at Soda; he shot me a horrified look.

Dally went beet-red under the thick layer of dirt and sweat. "I ain't quit, old man," he mumbled. "She quit me."

Sylvia's dad pushed off the fence and spat into the dust. His build was wiry like Dally's would be when he was grown, but I'd bet he had at least sixty pounds of muscle on Dallas and he was a good piece over six feet tall – with Dallas slouching, he towered over Dally. "I'm sure you ain't give her a good reason for that, either."

"No. No, _sir_," Dallas muttered sarcastically, glaring at his boots. "Got no idea why."

"Got nothin' to do with what I caught you two at t'other night in that empty stall? I shoulda whipped you better then, only you were due back here to ride in the morning – 'sides it wasn't the first time, not by a mile. You like getting your ears boxed or something? Don't you got no self-control, boy?"

I didn't think it was possible, but Dally went redder. He said nothing.

Sylvia's father had a laugh that bubbled out from under his mustache without him seeming to move a muscle. "Yes sirree, you sure are trouble, kid. Lucky for you, Merrill's got a soft spot where you're concerned. If you weren't such a good hand with the horses I'd have you strung up from the rafters from those offendin' parts of yours."

Dally made a face but kept his silence.

"You ever follow that line of thinking with some other young lady-"

"I ain't never cheated on her," Dallas said hotly. "You think I'd do that and show up here so you could kick my ass? I got no clue what she's in a terror over now. You got some idea, you tell me."

Red in the face and his eyes narrow and angry, Dallas looked genuinely upset over Sylvia. I felt a pang of sympathy for him. Lucky for him, Sylvia's father seemed to feel the same.

He spat again and leaned forward and clapped Dally on the shoulder – a little harder than necessary it looked like. "She's a wild one alright, but if you ain't the lousy bastard I think you are, she'll come around, kiddo. Don't lose that ring, yet. Now get outta here 'fore I change my mind about who's to blame and beat the tar outta you for breaking my baby girl's heart."

Dally ducked his head in agreement and was over the fence and hurrying towards Darry's truck so fast he was inside buckled up before me and Soda even had a chance to move.

Me and Soda exchanged a glance but he jerked his thumb in the direction Sylvia's dad had loped off in and put a finger to his lips. We climbed into the truck after Dally, who was still blushing something awful and glaring furiously at the dashboard.

It wasn't till we were halfway back to town, riding in total silence, that Dallas burst out: "There ain't no damn ring. The man's crazy."

Soda snickered. "Then why ain't you tell him that?"

Dally turned his glare on him. "Because, stupid, if he ain't thinking I'm gonna stick around with Sylvia forever, he'd kill me fucking dead for catching me and her, well … kissing," he finished lamely.

Soda hooted. "You ain't been caught kissing! You been caught bare-ass naked by her – Jesus – by her old man. And more'n once even? You're some kind of lucky; can't believe he didn't haul out a shotgun and shoot your balls clear off."

"Don't be dumb," Dally snapped. "I ain't got naked at no damn ranch, get straw poking me everywhere. Her and me only got a little horizontal, and maybe her hands were someplace they ain't supposed to be. But how is that my fault?"

"I'm sure her hands were down your pants for her own amusement, not yours," I piped up, and Soda cackled in surprised delight. Some evil part of me was enjoying seeing Dallas turn red over and over, glad there was someway of making him – not just Sylvia – pay for their indiscretions.

"Sometimes I fucking wonder," he muttered and Soda punched him on the arm.

"Watch your mouth."

"And how come she can mouth off to me and don't get hit?"

Soda grinned. "When you got something to say that's that funny, Dallas, you can mouth off in my truck, too." He winked at me, and I grinned back.

Dally groaned. "I knew the two of you ain't never growed up. Couple a ten-year-olds that know what sex is – that's all y'all are now."

"Says the kid who's too randy to keep it in his pants till his girl's old man is out of the barn," Soda laughed.

Dally glared at him. "Shut it, Curtis. If you wasn't driving I'd shut it for you. I know you ain't no innocent."

Soda smirked. "Never said I was, but I ain't so desperate I'm going to get myself caught by her parents either."

Dally folded his arms across his chest and slouched down in his seat. "Well, maybe Sandy ain't the tease Sylvia is," he muttered.

I'd had enough. Funny though it was to see Dallas rightly embarrassed, I wasn't about to sit quiet the whole ride home while they talked all the bull about girls they could invent.

"This truck is mighty small for that kind of talk," I said frostily.

Soda glanced at me apologetically and shut his mouth, but Dally only rolled his eyes.

"You a greaser girl, too, and by now, Miss Modesty, I know you know the score." He smiled slyly, the blush long gone from his cheeks. "And if you haven't already found out that Mathews ain't no innocent either, I'm sure you will soon."

Soda slammed on the brakes and swerved onto the shoulder, before I could even fully register the offence. "That's my cousin, Winston! You calling her a loose woman in front of me – what the hell is wrong with you?"

Dally looked genuinely shocked. "Jesus, Curtis, we're just bullshitting. I ain't called no one loose except you."

Soda glared at him. "And what you mean about her finding out Two-Bit ain't no innocent yet, then?"

Dally rubbed a hand through his hair. "Oh hell," he mumbled. "It's only as bad as she takes it, and I reckon she don't know about nothing."

Soda looked at me hard, and I tried to shrug. "It's okay, Soda."

Dally blew out his breath loudly, fluttering the stray hairs around his head. "I wasn't aiming to call you loose, Susie, I only meant ol'Mathews has enjoyed his share of dates, and it ain't no secret that he's got a thing for you about as subtle and small as fuckin' Texas. _Sorry_," he snapped, when Soda made a noise against his swearing, "Jesus."

I couldn't stop the blush from rising to my cheeks and Soda sighed in disgust.

"Hell, Dallas, don't you think it's up to Two-Bit to tell her that?"

Dally shrugged nonchalantly. "If she ain't figured it out already, she would soon. He's made it pretty damn crystal from where I been standing. That's was all I was saying. You wanna get out and discuss this further, Curtis?"

"No, he doesn't!" I said quickly. I wasn't about to start a fight, even if I could hardly see how they could get tangled up in something that wasn't even either of their business.

Soda shook his head and reluctantly started the car up again.

We drove the rest of the way in silence, Dally picking absently at a stray thread in the seat between us. He got out with us at the house and Soda stomped past him into the house without saying goodbye.

"Aw, shit, Soda I ain't mean anything by it," Dally called after him, a disgusted look on his face. He glanced at me. "You know I ain't, right?"

I shrugged, smoothing my skirt down. "I guess so."

He studied me for a second and seemed to hesitate. "You know, you could do worse than Mathews," he said shortly and spun on his heel, stalking off down the street.


	17. Mary Susan's Tragic Past (TM)

**Chapter 17: Mary Susan's Tragic Past ™**

**A/N:** Goddamn it, who named this fic? I had no reason for it, I was just being all artsy-fartsy and now I'm gonna have to go a put a cheesy-ass reason for the title in here, all because I meant to write a bunch about sunsets and then forgot with all the Dallas-adventures.

I'm only half-kidding. I've had this in my head and written out in pieces since this fic's initial conception, but it did not occur to me how to reveal the meaning without being supremely cheesy. It's not possible. Bring on the cheese.

The world's TINIEST nod to the book here – think Dallas at the drive-in, and it's literally three words of a random phrase. Does that even qualify?

**Disclaimer:** S.E. Hinton's stuff.

xxxx

I suppose all the talk about fathers, and about future fathers, got me curious about the past. I couldn't quite account for it, and I suppose part of it must have just been boredom. I wasn't following Dallas, although my mind still was, and Two-Bit hadn't been around since the night of Sylvia's false pregnancy.

Ponyboy asked me if I'd like to go on a walk with him and Johnny again, and I said yes, half-surprised he'd invited me. He shrugged and said shyly that I was good company, and didn't seem to mind their not talking all that much.

And when we got to the street in question, none of us talking and none of us minding it, I suggested we walk down it, albeit on the opposite side of the street.

Ponyboy glanced at me questioningly, and I knew he remembered, but he nodded and said nothing. Johnny didn't say a word, but he moved a little closer to me, stood up a little taller and lit a cigarette, casting his eyes around warily. For the first time, I could really appreciate their silence; even Two-Bit would have asked me a million questions about it.

There was a pickup parked in front of the old house, blue and only a little rusty, and the front lawn was clean if unkempt. An old barbeque stood in the front; it jogged my memory and I realized it had to have been there since the time me and momma had lived there. The house looked empty.

I paused for a second and Ponyboy and Johnny stopped short, looking back at me. After a second, Ponyboy used the moment to light a cigarette. Johnny kept his eyes on the ground but he hadn't moved from my side. I felt a swell of warmth towards him. He hardly knew me and yet, I could almost feel the protectiveness coming off of him.

I met his eyes and smiled. "I feel pretty safe around the neighbourhood with y'all walking with me."

To my surprise he grinned, then looked back at his shoes.

Ponyboy flexed an arm jokingly. "We could take anyone around here. Except maybe Darry."

We laughed, but it was nervous.

I cast another look at the silent house. There wasn't the slightest sign of life. I was about to suggest we move on when a man came stalking around the corner, wearing blue jeans and a work-shirt, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

He was handsome. I hadn't expected that. Lean and tall, he had straight, shiny blond hair that was as long as some of the boys my cousins counted as friends. His weather-beaten face was lightly lined, but open and friendly. It was a face that looked like it was used to laughter.

He walked with a swagger to his truck, and hopped up easily into the driver's seat. The door had hardly closed before he peeled out and made a quick U-turn. He glanced at us for no more than a second as he passed, and I felt my heart stop, but he only lifted a hand in a brief, unassuming greeting and carried on his way.

He couldn't have recognized me.

Ponyboy cleared his throat. "Should we, uh, head on home?"

I nodded, struck dumb. My stomach churned angrily and my mind raced, trying to place this image in with the fragments of memory I still clung to. I remembered his blond hair, his laughing smile, the smell of smoke and tobacco and whisky. I hadn't expected him to look so young, but I suppose Momma wasn't all that old herself. As we turned and made our way slowly back to the Curtises' house, I realized the feeling twisting in my gut wasn't the fear I expected.

xxxx

"Well, it's like this, see." Two-Bit shoved both fists into his jeans pockets and fidgeted. He'd come by as we were finishing dinner, and asked very politely if he might see me outside for a minute. But he'd been stammering through small-talk for the entirety of that minute and was only now getting around to what he wanted.

I couldn't help but smile and wonder how I had ever missed it before.

He took a breath and blew it out gustily. "Alright," he said with finality, "I'm taking the kids down on to the Nightly-Double – just Pony and Johnny, mind, so it could get a little noisy. But if you weren't doing nothing else tonight, I thought, maybe? You might?"

I grinned at him and put my hands on my hips. He wasn't getting off that easily. "Are you asking me out on a date, Two-Bit Mathews?"

Two-Bit blushed and ducked his head. "Well … no."

"No?"

He shrugged. "I usually don't ask along two kids when I go on a date. But maybe," he met my eyes almost shyly, and he was smiling, "well, maybe some other time-"

The screen door banged shut behind me and Ponyboy stepped out. He looked between Two-Bit and me for a few seconds and then his eyes got round and he turned to go back in. "Oh! Sorry …"

"Pony, it's okay." Two-Bit waved him out. "You about ready? Going to pick up Johnny and Susie here just about begged me to come along."

I swatted his arm. "Oh please, Two-Bit."

He smirked. "Still at it? I already said yes."

Ponyboy let me sit up front, and we drove along a couple blocks to pick up Johnny. His house looked like any other in the neighbourhood, but even before we'd got close I could hear the screaming coming from inside.

"Fightin' again," Two-Bit murmured, slowing down in front.

Johnny bolted out the front door and was in the car before we'd even really stopped.

"Let's go!" he said forcefully, and Two-Bit obliged.

We drove in silence for a few minutes before I looked back at him. "Nice to see you again so soon, Johnny."

He'd lit a cigarette and was slouching down in his seat looking for all the world like a skinnier, black-haired version of Dallas. But he gave me a nervous look and the kind of smile that I'd bet good money Dally had never had on his lips in his life.

"So, what's the movie?" I asked Two-Bit.

"Dance party seventeen and Beach Blast a-hundered and forty-six," he grunted. "I don't know, but I know it ends with everybody doing the twist."

I laughed. "Why are we going then?"

He shrugged. "Everybody goes there. Bet you we'll find Steve, and Soda, and Sandy, and Evie, and maybe even your old pal Dally there."

"Dally said he'd come by," Johnny piped up from the backseat, his voice rough but excited, and the words came a little too fast. "He said he'd be walking it and alone and could he catch a ride back?"

Two-Bit scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Oh yeah, forgot he broke up with Sylvia."

"Sylvia broke up with him," I informed him.

"Well. Either way, I guess he's free now," Two-Bit said softly.

I cringed knowing what he was thinking. "He deserved it after the way he treated her."

Two-Bit looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "Well, maybe. But a man could change."

"Only a fool would stick around to find out," I declared. My heart squeezed a little to say it, but seeing Two-Bit smile made it easier to believe.

Two-Bit grinned. "Oh, hell, until I work up the guts to actually ask you out, I suppose you're fair game for ol'Dally."

"Well, I'm with y'all tonight. Even if you said it's not … you know."

"A date."

I looked at him. "Well, is it?"

Two-Bit's mouth twitched. "Patience, Miss Susie. I'll ask you when I'm good and ready."

I sighed in frustration.

"You might change your mind about ol'Dally."

"Sounds like you might _want_ me to," I said stiffly. Ponyboy and Johnny were awful good listeners, and we weren't exactly being subtle, but if Two-Bit wanted to have it out right then, I wasn't about to back down.

"Oh, you know it's really your call to make," he said vaguely and then grinned. "But if I were you, I wouldn't shake his hand tonight. Dally ain't used to being single and he sure ain't one for diligent hand washing."

I raised my eyebrows at him. He didn't elaborate but Johnny and Pony both went brilliantly red and didn't speak until Two-Bit had paid our way in.

The sun was just setting. At Ponyboy's suggestion we clambered out of the car and sat on the trunk with our backs to the screen to watch it. Two-Bit ran to go get us some cokes – he figured since it was so early there wouldn't be no line-ups, and he could be back quick enough to catch the colours.

Ponyboy and Johnny were so quiet they'd begun to unnerve me, and I chattered aimlessly to them, asking questions I knew they wouldn't answer until I heard a hoot and a horn blaring and Steve swung into the space beside us, throwing gravel in a half-arc.

"What's going on, y'all?" Soda cried, leaping from the car. Sandy followed him, practically tackling him in a hug and Sodapop swung her around easily.

Johnny and Pony exchanged a look and grinned.

"Watching the sunset," I called back. "What colour you reckon that is, Sodapop?"

He squinted into the light. "I dunno – sun coloured?"

We laughed. "What you think Johnny?" I asked, reaching over and poking his arm.

I thought he'd pass out for a minute when I touched him, but he just shrugged and mumbled. "Red. Orange?"

"Vermillion," Ponyboy said, and then blushed as a chorus of "Oohs" came from Steve's car.

Evie stepped up and rubbed a hand against Ponyboy's head, which, even with him saying nothing, I could see irritated him something fierce. "Your kid brother oughtta name lipstick colours, Soda."

Soda grinned at Ponyboy. "Aw, shucks, he ain't a kid anymore'n you now, Evie. Are you Ponyboy?"

"You're crazy," Pony mumbled, but I could tell he was pleased.

"It's the colour of love," Sandy said, and gave Soda a messy kiss that drew more hoots and hollers from Steve and Evie.

Two-Bit ambled over with an armful of cokes and Dally hanging off his shoulder. "Oh hell, who brought the circus?" he said cheerfully.

"Christ on a cracker, ain't you two heard of modesty?" Dally said irritably, jabbing his cigarette at Soda and Sandy.

Sandy stuck her tongue out at him.

"Oh, put it away, I can still see Soda's teeth marks," Dally said snippily.

"Just cuz you're hard up now ain't no reason to get on everyone's last nerve being a Debbie Downer," Evie drawled. "Go take a cold shower, Dallas."

Dally considered her and Steve made an exaggerated show of putting his arm around her shoulders.

Two-Bit wriggled out from under Dally's elbow, passing the cokes around. "Don't want you near me, you that hard up, Dally."

Dallas sighed and held up his hands in mock defeat. He swiped a handful of popcorn from Two-Bit and hopped up beside Johnny.

"Heard you got caught with your pants down by Sylvia's old man," Steve said lazily.

That got a laugh from everyone except Pony and Johnny. For a second I thought Dallas was going to jump Steve, but then he seemed to relax.

"Oh hell," he said carelessly. "She tackled me. Wasn't much I coulda done. Girl's a helluva roper."

Maybe it was just the surprise of having Dallas tell a joke, but even Johnny cracked a smile.

Two-Bit hopped up beside me and the car groaned in protest. He nodded towards the sunset. "Pretty."

"Just like you princess," Dally said with a snort.

"What colour would you call that, Two-Bit?" Ponyboy asked, keeping the game going.

He didn't miss a beat. "Always thought the sky looks the colour of a sweet potato to me." He pointed to the clouds scattered on the horizon. "Sweet potato with melting butter."

Soda groaned, appreciatively. "Man, I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry," Steve said rolling his eyes.

"Sweet potatoes with _marshmallows_, idiot," Dally said, and we all looked at him.

Evie burst out laughing. "He's right! Dally'd you'd make a good housewife."

"Aw, go f- f- fall in a lake," he muttered, avoiding Steve's glare.

Sandy sighed. "It ain't the season for that kind of food. Not until Christmas."

"You forgot Thanksgiving," Dally countered.

Sandy smiled at him. "You eat sweet potatoes at Thanksgiving, Dallas?"

He grimaced. "Yeah, yeah. No need to rub it in, Sandra Dee."

She looked confused, but Soda just shook his head at her.

Two-Bit waved his hands in the air frantically as if dismissing them all. "Y'all are ruining it. It ain't Christmas and it ain't Thanksgiving. It's just an extra piece of delicious for everyone for no damned good reason at all."

Soda laughed again, and we were quiet a few minutes, digesting that, watching the sun disappear.

He turned to me eagerly, waving at the clouds. "Hey! Now don't you think-"

I suppose he'd forgotten how close we were sitting or he would have backed up a bit. We were nose to nose and he shut up pretty quick.

Before I could think to say anything I felt a huge shove from behind me and Two-Bit tumbled off the trunk and onto the gravel.

I looked behind me to see Dally grinning smugly. He shuffled over again and I almost fell off.

"Dallas, cut it out," I gasped, and he leaned over across Johnny and Ponyboy and nudged me off. Two-Bit caught me on the way down, but I still landed pretty hard on him.

"Oops," Dally said smirking. "Guess I'm getting fat. Must be all those goddamn imaginary sweet 'taters."

I glared at him and stood up hurriedly. "That was a mean thing to do. I coulda crushed Two-Bit and him lying on gravel like that-"

"Yeah, you lousy shit," Two-Bit said, but he was grinning ear to ear. "She landed right on top of me."

"What? Oh no!" Dally said exaggeratedly, putting a hand to his cheek. "Musta been _awful_."

I crawled back up on the trunk of the car, my face as red as Ponyboy's listening to all of them laugh.

"So you reckon it looks like something else, Dal?" Two-Bit asked, leaning against the car door, the grin stretched out over his face. "Didn't think much of my comparison, didja?"

Dally squinted at the disappearing sunlight. "Looks like …" He hopped off the car trunk. "Hey! Looks like Shepard. Owe that lousy bastard one for last week, blamed me for taking off with Buck's car. Hey, Shepard!" He jogged off, chasing after the faraway silhouette.

"Boo!" Soda called after him. "You lose the game, Dallas!"

Dally turned around and flipped him off, still jogging backwards.

I guess Ponyboy and Johnny had enough because they both scooted off the end of the car and made for the popcorn stand.

"Y'all want?" Ponyboy asked, and Soda and Sandy took off with them.

Steve and Evie had already crawled in the backseat together.

Two-Bit hopped up where Johnny and Pony had been, patting the car beside him and grinning. "Watch the rest with me?"

I shifted over and after a minute I leaned my head against his shoulder. I knew it was a forward thing to do, but I just felt so comfortable there, watching the sunlight disappear.

Two-Bit shifted. "'S nice." I more felt him say it than heard it.

"Mmhmm." I sighed. "It's times like this I almost wish I'd never left Tulsa."

"Why did you leave?"

I shrugged. "Momma wanted to." I hesitated. He'd been honest and open with me the whole time I was there, and part of me just wanted to share everything with him. "She wanted to get away from Tulsa. And my daddy's temper."

I felt him move a little, and knew he was listening.

"My old man left for the same reason," he said finally. "I don't reckon it was too bad a decision. They used to fight like nothing else." He was quiet for a moment. "But he didn't take me or Ginny when he left."

I looked up at him quickly but he was smiling reassuringly. "It's a good thing, though. Don't go spreading it around, but I don't exactly hate the old lady. I ain't no momma's boy though," he added quickly.

I laughed. "I know."

"Seems it's usually that way, one parent up and leaves everyone. Take your friend Sylvia, even," Two-Bit added, trying to sound casual. He looked at me sideways. "Not you, though."

I smiled. "If you're going to be nosey, I ain't gonna tell you nothing."

"Who's being nosey?" he protested. "I was just giving you an invitation is all."

"Hmm," I said. "Well, like I said, I reckon my daddy had good intentions, but he had a temper."

Two-Bit looked down and nodded.

"It was only once, and I reckon I deserved it. Only, Momma said she swore to herself that she'd give no second chances where I was concerned. And I reckon she'd about had all she could take by then."

Two-Bit let out a breath. "Yeah. Well, I'm glad she left then."

"I bet he's real sorry," I whispered. "Sometimes I even feel bad for leaving. Then I feel bad for faulting Momma, when she has troubles enough for two people already."

"I know." He let out a heavy sigh, and then tried to smile. "Parents like to go and mess everything up."

"Yeah," I agreed. "I always swore I'd never do the same. I'd always do the right thing and I'd always be happy. But now I'm older, it seems a lot harder a thing to do."

All that was left of the sunset was a streak of light colour across the horizon.

"It's never easy, is it, Two-Bit?" I asked softly.

He didn't answer me right away. Then almost shyly, he took my hand.

"Sometimes it is."

He held my hand until the others all came back and never once tried to kiss me.

xxxx

**A/N:** I just want Two-Bit to win.


	18. Mr and Mrs Woobie

**Chapter 18: Mr. and Mrs. Woobie**

**A/N:** Oh boy. So this one tackles a couple of the more difficult tropes in the fandom. I guess I chickened out a little, but I couldn't make myself write overtly about things just because I was supposed to … that said, I sort of did it anyway. This made sense to me, and I hope it's respectful. It certainly isn't moralistic, which makes me a little worried.

P.S. Another tiny nod to the book.

**Disclaimer:** S.E. Hinton owns anything you recognize.

xxxx

Eight whole days in their interminable entirety passed with not a single word from Two-Bit.

The boredom was starting to get to me. Sylvia, Sandy and Evie hadn't been around the diner much and though Ginny was good company, she'd gotten irritated with me once or twice for asking too much about her brother.

"I reckon he'll call you when he's good and ready," she snapped finally. "You gave him the run around but good for the first while, you can't expect him not to be worried you'll run off after that hoodlum again."

I stayed silent, properly chastened, but at the end of our shift, she'd softened.

"I'll tell the idiot to give you a call," she grunted on her way out. "Seems dumb to spend all that time trying to convince you and only now develop a tendency toward shyness."

But he hadn't called.

I had more than Two-Bit weighing on my mind, though, and Sunday evening, with Darry asleep in front of the ball game, Soda playing cards with Steve, and Ponyboy chapters deep in Dickens, I decided I'd rather be reckless than go crazy from boredom.

"I'm going for a walk," I announced.

Ponyboy didn't respond, which was a disappointment. Soda asked if I wanted company but he didn't even wait for an answer before getting into a gleeful argument with Steve about who was cheating more.

The sun was just setting again as I stepped outside, and it cheered me, remembering Two-Bit's pronouncements at the drive-in the week before. I bit my cheek recalling Dallas' additions to the conversation, trying hard to convince myself not to remember him. It wasn't him I was interested in no more.

I got to the edge of the street and felt a thrill of fear travel up my spine. There was no Ponyboy to help me push away the shame, no Johnny to make me feel safe. I felt myself moving forward, pulled by some will that wasn't my own.

Curiosity killed the cat, I thought to myself, absurdly. Why would such a flippant rhyme include any reference to death?

The blue truck was parked outside the house again, but this time he was there, sitting on the porch, drinking and smoking, a newspaper spread across his lap.

I stopped short in front of his house, watching him, and after a moment he looked up.

"Well," he said, smiling kindly, grinding his cigarette into the grass, "I don't suppose you'd like to come in?"

The house was cool and dark, and the rush of memories brought tears to my eyes. I couldn't understand.

I watched his broad back disappear into the depths where I knew the kitchen was. Even from the hallway I could hear the avocado-coloured refrigerator humming, the same one Dallas and me had stolen popsicles from a lifetime ago.

There was new furniture in the living room, new picture frames. Not a one of momma and me, but some dark, curly-haired woman, smiling and round, one of him and her, one of her and a dark, curly-haired child sitting on a swing.

"That's Marie."

He handed me a glass of something brown and gestured to the picture. "And little Albert. He ain't mine, but, well, she don't mind that and I guess neither do I."

He looked me up and down. "Now, don't you get no ideas about me running off and starting a new family. I waited ages for your momma to get it all straightened out in her head, but I ain't stupid. I figured by now she's done with me, moved the two of you on."

I clutched my glass and said nothing, my mouth as dry as sand.

He gave me a long look and tried another smile. "Hey now, darlin' you don't gotta be worried of me." He chuckled. "Though, now you've finally come by, we ain't got to rush the catching up neither, I don't suppose."

"She's doing just fine," I said finally, my voice like gravel. I took a sip of what he'd given me, not tasting it.

He nodded and swallowed. "Well, I'm glad. Didn't do right by her. Didn't do right by either of you, I expect."

I wanted to say I'd missed him, but the tears that had threatened before had stoppered up my mouth.

He took another swallow of his drink. "You look like her," he said, friendly, not looking at me. "Now you're all grown up."

I nodded.

"How're those cousins of yours?"

"They do alright."

"Was mighty sorry to hear their parents passed away. Woulda done something, but don't reckon they even know about me no more." He drained his drink and squinted at me. "Really do look like your momma."

I nodded again, trying to find the words to say anything.

"Gotta fella?"

I looked at him quickly and he laughed.

"Pretty thing like you, must have. What are you now, sixteen?"

I nodded.

He hesitated, then rested his hand on my shoulder, fingertips touching my hair. "Long hair just like your momma used to have."

"She cut it. It's real short now."

His eyes narrowed. "Too bad. Used to be just as pretty as yours."

His hand touched my hair again, the movement sending shockwaves up my spine. I felt ready to snap in two with the tension.

"He treat you right, your fella?" he asked, his voice deepening.

I thought of Dallas before I could help myself. Treat me right? Did I have a fella? _Two-Bit_ …

"He's okay," I said, and he laughed.

"Some boys, they ain't know what it is to treat a woman right," he said wistfully. "Been that way myself."

He moved closer, his hand cupping my face and I felt sudden terror.

"But we grow up, Susie, we do," he murmured. "We learn from our mistakes. We learn how to do right."

"I have to go," I managed, pushing away from his grip, but his hand on my face tightened.

"Hey now, don't struggle," he said, his voice roughening with the effort of holding on to me. "It ain't like that, I'm your daddy."

I turned my head and bit down on his hand as hard as I could, tasting dirt and sweat and iron, and then a blinding pain hit me in the side of the head.

He stepped back panting. "What in the hell got into you, girl? I ain't done nothing and you bit me. You bit me! What in tarnation … weren't we getting along just fine?"

I turned and ran, feeling the sob work it's way up from my chest, hearing him hollering and not caring, so sorry that I could have died.

xxxx

I reckon the Curtises wasn't all that much farther, or even Two-Bit's, but for better or for worse I came upon Dallas' street first. My feet turned down that way and before I knew it I was sinking down into the grass beside a tree in what was either a vacant space or somebody's oversized backyard. Two fences away I could see Dally's house, and I crawled forward in the long grass on my hands and knees until I could see his back porch, wondering what I was doing there if I didn't have the courage to go up and look for him.

I was glad I'd stayed put when I heard the unmistakable sounds of angry voices coming from within. They were muffled and unintelligible, and I couldn't be sure they were coming from his house or a television set or somewhere else.

I buried my face in my arms; I had hardly noticed a thing in my flight but now my cheek was smarting something awful. It felt like it was throbbing in time with my heart and I whimpered a little, sending up what I thought was a hopeless prayer that Dallas would somehow come out of the house and comfort me, or Darry would happen by and see me, or Soda, or anyone.

I got my wish in a roudabout way a second later when I heard a shout and Dallas came flying out of his back door with his eyes blazing, his mouth set in a straight line. He made it down a couple of steps before being suddenly yanked back, his arm twisted roughly behind him. Standing behind him was a stocky, heavily muscled man, with bulging biceps and a slightly sagging gut. He was red in the face, and his nose was swollen, but the rest of his features were cut in hard, straight lines. His dark hair was close-cropped in a military style and was starting to grey, but he might have been handsome, with his high cheek-bones, deep set eyes, and commanding air, if he hadn't looked so angry. In his left fist he gripped a pair of silver kitchen shears.

He jerked Dally's arm and Dallas, surprised and flailing, stumbled gut first into the rough wooden railing. Even from where I was sitting I could hear the air leave his lungs, and he staggered to his knees, still trying to free his arm.

The man reached out to balance himself with his other hand, and the shears left his fist and skittered across the porch, landing in the grass. He cursed, then with his newly free hand he grabbed a fistful of Dallas' hair. His fingers wound themselves in root deep and when he pulled Dally was jerked around. Dallas swiped at him with his free arm but he was out of reach; with one good pull of Dally's hair the man cracked the back of Dally's skull into the wooden railing. Dally went limp.

"You think you can talk back to me, in my own house, you little son-of-a-bitch?" The man kept on pulling on Dally's hair shaking him around like a rag-doll. "Eat my food, sleep under my roof, come home reeking of alcohol! You're making a fool out of me and you think I don't know it?"

Dally slowly regained enough control to use his free arm to steady himself against the railing and pull himself up to a half-crouch. It must have hurt something awful to pull back against the hand buried in his hair, but even from a distance I could see his eyes held nothing but rage.

"I ain't never done a goddamn thing-" he started hotly and the man kicked a leg out from under him.

"Damn right, you've never done a thing. Not a disciplined bone in that body and anyone who looked at you would know it. Running around town looking like that!" the man spat, his voice lowering dangerously. "I'll cut it all off, I swear to the good Lord above. Get rid of all _this._" He shook Dally again.

"My goddamned _hair_ ain't never done nothing either-"

"Advertising your damn existence all around town – making a mockery of the name Winston!"

"Following in your footsteps, _Dad._" He spat uselessly at the man, but followed that distraction up with a hard hit to his father's gut.

He groaned and let go of Dally's arm as the punch connected, but his hand stayed buried in Dally's hair. Dallas struggled to his feet again just in time for his father's palm to connect with his face. The slap echoed off the walls of the tiny houses that were built so close, and the sound bouncing back so quickly seemed to rouse the man to the inherent lack of privacy that came with living on the East side.

"Who are you to fuck around with me?" the man whispered furiously. "_Dad._ You little bastard. This hair, this goddamned _hair,_" he shook his hand and Dally with it, "is this my hair? Is it?"

"Fuck you," Dally snarled. "I hope it isn't. I hope she was fucking every asshole on the block-"

The man slapped him again, but Dally's breath hardly caught.

"I hope she screwed every rat in town and not you! I hate your fucking guts." His voice was raw. "I _hate _you!"

The man wound up for another slap, but I'd watched all I could.

Both Dallas and the man leapt apart when I screamed, and when I didn't stop the man launched a half-hearted kick in Dally's direction and disappeared back inside the house. Dally crawled wide-eyed down the stairs, found his footing in the tiny yard and leaped the two fences to get to me.

He practically fell on top of me, clamping his hand on my mouth. "What, what?" he asked anxiously. "Goddamn it, why are you still fucking _screaming?_"

I quit, but prised his hand off my mouth. "Because," I gasped, and started crying in spite of myself. "Because, _Dally_."

He looked alarmed, and I remembered Two-Bit's warning from weeks before for me not to talk about other people's parents, that it was cruel just to tell them what they already knew and couldn't help.

"He hit you."

I looked at Dally in surprise. He was breathing hard, and flushed, but his face was calm and there was a shrewd look in his eyes. "He hit you," he repeated. "Your old man."

"How did you know?" I squeaked. My voice was coming out funny from the tears.

"Because you're getting a shiner," he said matter-of-factly. "And your boyfriend's the town gossip. You think he didn't run around telling everybody your old man's in town and all he's about as soon as you told him?"

I guess I must have looked as pained as I felt because he shook his head at me looking frustrated.

"Only to warn people not to ask," he added simply. "It's just the way of things."

Dallas backed off from me and sat cross-legged in the grass. He wriggled the arm he'd had twisted behind him and then rubbed his hands vigorously across his scalp. "If he'd pulled any harder he wouldn'ta needed the damn scissors."

"Don't worry, bruises are always in style in this goddamned neighbourhood."

Dally stared at me wide-eyed and I stared back, neither of us quite able to grasp what had just come out of my mouth.

"Well," Dally said, finally. "At least we match."

I felt the laughter rise in my throat even as more tears fell, but I swallowed it. "I'm sorry I said that."

"I'm not," he marvelled. "Boy, I didn't think you even knew _how_ to swear."

He looked downright pleased, and it confused me, almost scared me to see him grin with his cheek bright red from where he'd been hit.

"How can you be alright?" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. "He- he-"

"Oh, I kinda deserved it," he said lightly. "I guess I was smarting off to him, not that _he_ don't deserve that and more. Deserves everything he gets from me, if you want the truth, and should get worse. But anyway most of the time ol'Bill don't get bothered, except when I rub his face in all this." He ran a hand through his hair again gently and I could tell he was still smarting.

"But I heard what you said to him – you said you didn't do anything!"

He shrugged. "Did you?"

I picked at the grass rather than answer him. The tears had stopped coming now and I wiped at my cheek with the back of my hand, glad I wasn't wearing any makeup.

"Can't imagine you saying anything bad enough to deserve that," I said finally, still staring at the grass.

Dally snorted. "If you can't imagine me saying anything that bad, then you got no business talking to me cuz we obviously ain't never met."

I looked up at him and saw he was still grinning. Like this entire thing was a huge joke to him. It made me mad enough to quell the nerves that were starting to brew in my stomach again.

"That ain't funny. Ain't funny at all," I snapped. "I've heard you say the most vile things I've ever heard in my life, and I still say I ain't heard you say nothing to deserve getting shaked around like a rag-doll."

The smile slid off Dally's face like water off a duck's back.

"Jesus, you like to make a guy feel real manly don't you," he said sourly. "Cut me a fucking break. Was just trying to make you feel better, seeing as you ain't all as fucking bad and tough as you pretend to be. I hate seeing dumb chicks cry."

I felt the sting of the insults like knives but it only made me madder. I'd seen the boy I remembered in these few minutes on the grass, and maybe I was crazy to imagine he wouldn't hurt me, maybe all the hopeless, frustrated wishes I'd bottled up about Dallas were coming out, or maybe I was just plain angry, but I couldn't seem to get my mouth to recall that Dally was dangerous.

"Well, then, if you can't stand it, maybe you ain't all as bad and tough as _you_ pretend to be," I said bitterly.

Dally let his breath hiss out through his teeth and for one horrible second I was convinced he would hit me.

"You are fucking lucky you're a chick and related to Darrel Curtis," he said, his muscles taught with anger. "And I was trying to be nice for fuck's sake."

"Only cuz you were embarrassed I saw you get beat up."

"Jesus Christ!" he shouted and slammed his fist into the ground beside me. "You really are a fucking bitch. I wouldn'ta believed it, but I guess Sylvia's been rubbing off on you this whole time, ain't she?"

"I know it, I'm sorry," I said miserably, deflating in seconds in the face of his anger. "I didn't mean it."

"I thought you liked me."

I looked up at him quickly, and to my shock he reddened.

"I reckon that's why I don't like to see you joke about it all," I said slowly, after a time.

I expected him to storm off, or swear at me more, but he only looked away and plucked at the grass. I could see him struggling for something to say, for some way of picking back up the power that he'd lorded over me the entire time we'd spent together this summer.

"You ain't gotta worry," he mumbled finally. "It ain't no big deal. It ain't like what Johnny, or Steve, or hell, probably you when you was here – it ain't what y'all go through. Like I said, most of the time, he ain't nothing for me to worry about."

"He came at you with shears," I said desperately, and Dally rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, only pays attention when he wants me to get a haircut," he said contemptuously. "Told him you'd already gone and done it, and done it better, at least you know- you know the difference-" he hiccupped, and then to my astonishment started to giggle, "I said at least you know the difference between _hair_ and _ear_, and he said, he said it didn't matter cuz the way I listened to him my ears was as worthless as the rest of me, and I- I- I said-" he was full on laughing now, "just cuz he had more hair growing outta his ears than on his head-"

I didn't think it was funny. I was hurting for both him and me, and furious at him for joking and filled with loathing over both our fathers, so it came as the world's biggest shock when I couldn't help myself howling with laughter right alongside him.

Dally spread his hands out helplessly when we could finally speak again. "Can't help it, it's _funny_ to me. Dunno if that makes me sick or what, but it just is. Ain't none of your business trying to change that, or go running all over town telling tales about what a crack-up I am either."

"Well, I'm here laughing beside you now, ain't I? Guess I just got to be as cracked in the head as you at this point."

Dally grinned. "Worse, I'd say, considering you picked a fucking fight with me over it not ten seconds ago."

I gave him a little nudge in the shoulder and he reached over and gave me a real shove that sent me sprawling. He crawled over to where I lay flat on my back, surprised.

"That's for being mean," he informed me, looking down at me with a halo of messy blond hair framing his face. "And don't think just cuz you're a grown lady now I won't do it again."

"Or put a frog in my purse?" I suggested giggling. "Gum in my hair?"

He smirked. "All you crazy broads is the same."

"Only around you," I said boldly.

He learned in close, lowering his voice to a whisper. "You keep this all to yourself or I'll shove you for real."

I propped myself up on my elbow in the grass, the way I could remember I had when I was a kid. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

He smirked again and flicked a piece of grass from my hair. His fingers caught in the long strands, and I made another mental note to cut off that tangle.

"Guess you like haircuts as much as I do," he murmured, winding his fingers in my hair.

I smiled, about to reply that it was my momma, actually, who shared his dislike of haircuts, but when I looked up he was staring intensely at me, only a few inches from my face.

And I don't know how it happened. His lips met mine and I wanted to laugh until I died.

His weight squirming on me felt warm against the cooling night air. The grass was tickling my ear with his breath, and when he pulled away his eyes were bright and fevered.

"We should stop," I said, unable to recognize my own voice.

"Yeah," he groaned and covered my mouth again with his own. "Can't."

xxxx

**A/N:** Oh, hell, Dallas.


	19. ALL THE HOT SEX almost

**Chapter 19: ALL THE HOT SEX almost**

**A/N: **Fade to black?! Fuck that shit. But you better not be expecting roses.

I maybe should have rated this M? Dallas talks a lot of bull. Consider yourselves warned.

Nod to the _movie_ sorta, because no Outsiders sexy-times are complete without the reminiscence of Rob Lowe in a towel, right? Also a nod to Taming the Star Runner, but just because it has a lulz sex-term.

**Disclaimer:** Poor S.E., I'm not sure these are quite the same characters she created, but they're at least an attempt at them. I make no money from this anyway.

xxxx

As suddenly as he'd started kissing me, Dally rolled off me, breathing hard, his face flushed.

"If we don't stop now, and you make me stop later, I'll go crazy," he said flatly. "I don't know if you understand or if you really are that damn innocent, but if you're gonna say 'no' at all, do it now while I ain't … committed."

I stared up at the sky, which was now a deep purple. There was the smell of rain in the air and the stars were hidden from view by heavy clouds; the only light came from the moon, a faint, cold sliver above us.

"I don't know, Dallas."

He groaned. "That means no."

"No, it don't."

"_Yes_, it do, because I'm saying it. I ain't gonna let you get me all worked up and then decide to shut things down."

He groaned again, and sat up, adjusting his jeans and I felt myself blush.

"I didn't mean to get you started," I said timidly.

Dally glanced at me and smirked. "Oh hell," he said, and lit a cigarette.

I sat up and touched him on his bad arm and he shuddered. His skin was slick with moisture, and I could feel the blouse of my dress sticking to my back with the heat. "I really didn't."

"I know, only it wasn't your fault, I guess," he mumbled around his cigarette. "Guess I woulda got there no matter what."

He fell back on the grass, flat on his back, cigarette tip glowing in the dark. "Don't look down there unless you wanna know more'n you already do. Jeans can only hide so much with me."

My face burning, I laid down beside him and stared back up at the sky, my mind slipping back stubbornly to the thought that had hovered in the back of my mind since he'd started kissing me.

"You gonna tell Two-Bit on me?"

He laughed, and then choked, smoke spiralling out his mouth. "Shit. Forgot about him. You two still going together?"

I shook my head. "He ain't never asked me out. I thought he was gonna, but he never did. I guess he saw this coming."

Dally took the cigarette out of his mouth. "What coming? Me?" He sighed. "I fucking wish."

"Why did you kiss me, Dallas," I whispered. "We were fine."

I felt him shrug. "I dunno. I wanted to. You're pretty and you like me. I need more reason than that?"

"I hear lots of girls are pretty and like you."

"Not so much the nice ones."

He turned his head sideways to look at me and I looked back. "So, you were just trying to corrupt me?"

His eyes widened. "Come on. It ain't like that. Maybe _I'm_ just so damn corrupted I can't stop it, ever thought of that?"

I smiled and reached forward running my fingers through his hair.

He groaned and caught my hand. "Don't start all that again."

"Ain't I fun to kiss, Dally?" I teased.

He laughed. "Oh, boy, I ain't falling for that one." He sat up again. "Mathews is a good guy. An idiot but a helluva guy. Fuck. He's my buddy, you know?"

His words stung. I didn't want to feel guilty about this and my own conscious was already doing the job without him adding to it. "Well, why don't you date him then, since he don't seem to be interested in me?"

He glanced at me, the corners of his mouth turned down in a strange mix of grin and grimace. "Oh, he's just wild about you. Couldn't pick someone he didn't give a damn about, could I?"

Dallas put out his cigarette and pushed himself up. "Alright, time to get you home now."

"That quick?"

He winced. "Let a guy hang on to a speck of pride, won't you?"

We walked back to the Curtises', Dally standing close enough that our arms brushed against each other, sticking with the heavy humidity. I could feel the hairs on both our arms raise with the feeling.

"This ain't right," he sighed when we got to the front of my cousin's house. "It ain't. You know he'd be fucking pissed."

I nodded, feeling stupid. "I ain't never wanted to hurt him."

He rolled his eyes. "Who's gonna believe this was _your_ idea?"

I nodded again, dumbly, my lips still tingling where he'd kissed me. I wished I felt happier. "Well, then goodnight."

He gave me a long look. "Yeah."

I turned around to go inside, feeling like my insides had turned to stone, when Dally reached out and grabbed me, spinning me back around.

His lips crushed into mine, pushing deeper until I thought I'd choke, then he backed off slowly, barely letting me breathe before starting up again.

"What the _fuck_?"

I pushed away from Dallas. For a second he tried to follow, but then he must have realized who'd spoken.

Darry was standing on the top step of the porch, silhouetted by the light from the house, fists planted on his hips, looking like a statue of the Roman god of war come to life.

"Oh, fuck me," Dallas said faintly. "And he's fast, too."

xxxx

"Don't you two ever think?"

Dally blew his breath out irritably. "Oh, here we go again with that shit. Did it look like we were worried about fucking thinking, Curtis?"

Darry glared at him. "Don't push it, Dallas. That was my cousin you were all over. I oughtta kick your ass from here to kingdom come – you're lucky I'm even hearing you out."

Behind his back Sodapop was looking more confused than I'd ever seen him. He'd look at me, shaking his head, then looking at Dally, glowering like he wanted to sock him. But then he'd shake his head again and look down, his lips twitching against a smile.

Dally waved a hand at his face exaggeratedly. "Well, what the fuck do you call this? I think a split lip is more'n enough payment for a little kissing. Jesus, you act like I had her flat on her back, legs up, right there in the grass."

I stared at Dallas, feeling the blush creep over my cheeks. He didn't so much as bat an eye.

Darry crossed his arms, and it only made his muscles look bigger. "I ain't interested in hearing from your trash-mouth, Dallas. From where I stood it looked like that was all you, not to mention the goddamn black eye she's got that has yet to be explained. I want to hear from Susie the truth, and it better be quick."

Darry seemed to get bigger with rage. If you'd asked me how tall he was at that moment I wouldn't have said anything less than ten feet. Dallas didn't look all that scared but he shut up and gave me a meaningful look.

I stared at my hands. "It wasn't all him. Well, maybe that kiss was, but Darry, I guess I didn't exactly say no."

Dally snorted. "No, you ain't."

"Shut your mouth," Darry snapped. "When I want to hear from you again, I'll ask."

Dally shrugged, and rubbed his jaw where Darry had socked him. After Darry had caught us Dally had turned around and almost made to leave but Darry was too fast for him. He'd hollered after Dallas and Dally'd stopped dead in his tracks, sighing and turning around with a weary look on his face just in time for Darry's fist to connect with his mouth.

With a lot of begging and ineffective tugging on both their arms, I'd managed to get them both inside without much more bloodshed, but between the beating he'd taken from his father and Darry's snap judgment, Dallas was looking a little worse for the wear.

He was slouched on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but there. Truth be told, I was surprised he hadn't either up and left or had it out for good with Darry.

Now I took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to get Dallas off the hook without turning myself in completely. But all I could think to say was the truth, and I wasn't sure how much of either Dally's or my past I could share.

"Darry, I was upset," I said.

"What did he do?" Darry thundered, and Dally jumped on the couch.

"Nothing, man, nothing," he snapped. "Let her finish would you?"

Darry glared at him. "If she tells me she was upset over you-"

"You think I'd still be here if she was gonna tell you that?" Dally said impatiently, looking at Darry intently. "You know me, Curtis. I ain't aiming to make enemies of y'all over some skirt. And I don't hit chicks."

Darry seemed to hesitate. "Well, what got you upset enough to run to this hood, Susie?"

I shook my head. "It ain't important. I … I went for a walk, and I guess I heard some things ..."

Sodapop looked at me curiously, but I hurried on.

"Anyway, Dally caught up with me and we was just talking. He was making me feel better, and well, I guess one thing led to another. He wasn't harming me in no way."

"I thought you had better taste than to date this punk," Darry said impatiently.

"Hey," Dally said, his eyes narrowing.

"Yeah, I thought you didn't like Dallas no more," Soda said mildly.

Darry glanced at him. "No more?"

Soda shrugged. "Oh, I knew they were interested in each other. Just didn't think it was going to go nowhere, what with Dallas seeing Sylvia and Susie, well … I suppose I ain't seen Two-Bit in awhile, now."

Darry shook his head. "What? Two-Bit, too? What in the hell's going on?"

Dally stood up suddenly. "Look, we all clear here? I didn't hit the girl, and I didn't mess around with her any more than she wanted me to. And anyway, I ain't aiming at continuing nothing-"

"You kiss my cousin and won't even ask her out proper?"

Dally grimaced at the expression on Darry's face. "No, it ain't like that. But I ain't aiming to get into a fist-fight over her with Two-Bit-"

"Shoulda thought of that before kissing her," Soda said, raising an eyebrow in exact likeness of Two-Bit.

"Well, I thought we'd fucking figured out that I wasn't thinking in the first place," Dally said sarcastically.

"Watch your mouth," Darry said, his voice low and dangerous.

"I'm watching yours," Dally shot back, his hands curling into fists.

"Leave him alone," I blurted out, frantic to stop another fight before it started. "It ain't his fault. We was both upset, and I'm as much to blame as him."

"What in the hell got you _both_ upset? And Susie, goddamnit, if it wasn't this hood that gave you that bruise then you'd better tell me quick who _did_." Darry didn't take his eyes off of Dallas.

"I went and saw my father," I said, throwing caution to the wind.

Soda, Darry and Dallas all looked at me, surprise written on all their faces.

"You what?" Soda said.

I ignored him. If I didn't get it all out before I thought about it, it wouldn't come out at all. "And then, I saw _his _father."

Soda and Darry looked back at Dallas. Dally's expression went from a look of complete surprise to fury in a matter of seconds.

"That ain't anyone's business but my own," he said hotly.

"But Dallas," I said, unable to look him in the eye, "he _hurt_ you."

"You shut your mouth."

"Is what she's saying the truth," Darry said wearily.

Dally hesitated. "Some, anyway. Chick got it all twisted around in her head. Her old man hit her."

"And you figured that'd be an appropriate time to make a move?" Darry's posture had relaxed some, but the threatening tone hadn't left his voice.

Dally looked at me quickly, and I could practically see his mind trying to work out which would be worse in front of Darry – admit to being upset over his father, or admit to taking advantage of me.

"Aw, leave the guy alone, Darry," Soda spoke up suddenly. "He ain't the one who hurt Susie, and they ain't kids. If they wanna kiss it's their own damn business." He grinned at Dallas, who glowered back at him.

"I don't need you sticking up for me, Curtis," he snapped.

Soda ignored him. "Two-Bit ain't laid a claim as far as I know, but if you two start going together you oughtta at least give him a heads up."

"We ain't going together."

"Why not?"

Silence filled the room after I spoke. Darry and Soda exchanged a look and Dallas fiddled with the end of his shirt, his eyes on Darry's shoes.

"Cuz it ain't right," he said finally. "I already told you that."

"But-"

Without another word, without looking at me or Darry or Soda, Dallas turned around and left. We could hear the screen door bang shut after him and the sound of his boots on the stairs in the silence.

"Let that be a lesson to you, Susie," Darry said finally. "Dallas ain't a good one to mess around with on a whim. And Jesus, I figured you were the kind of girl who knew that already."

I felt my face get hot, but I said nothing as he left the room.

Soda had disappeared into the kitchen, returning quickly with a tea towel full of ice. "Here, oughtta make the swelling go down some," he said, pressing it gently to the side of my head. "Boy, he really did a number on you. You swear Dallas had nothing to do with it?"

I was suddenly mad. "No. He had his own father to deal with."

Soda's eyes flicked to mine and then back to the towel. "Don't think he was too happy about you sharing that," he said lightly.

"Well, I ain't in a mood to keep secrets for someone who just up and leaves like that. Why does he keep doing that?"

Soda smiled. "Aw, Susie, you know what kind of guy he is. Remember when we was kids and he'd stay late after we pulled a prank and help us clean up and make nice?"

"No," I admitted.

"Cuz it ain't never happened. You can't say you ain't been warned. And anyway, this ain't so much about you and Dallas as it is about Two-Bit and Dallas. He didn't kiss you cuz he _ain't_ interested."

"Oh, I know he left here because of Two-Bit," I said, taking the towel away from him. I felt a guilty thrill go through me, but I tried to ignore it. "But if he was _really_ interested, wouldn't he just … I don't know, talk to him?"

Soda shrugged. "Well, maybe he's interested, but he ain't _really_ interested. Savvy?"

I stood up quickly, feeling tears stinging my eyes. "Well, thank you for your opinion."

Soda stood awkwardly. "Aw, Susie, I didn't mean it that way. It'd be a credit to him if he really was interested, I mean it. But, well, I'm sorry but Dally ain't exactly the type to fall in love, kiddo."

"I already _knew_ that. I figured it out, but he went and did it anyway." I wasn't sure if I was crying out of hurt or out of anger.

Soda rubbed my arm awkwardly. "Well … you want me to call Darry and get him to beat Dally's head in? He'll do it if you say so." He grinned. "Hows about some chocolate cake in the meantime? We can plot out how to get back at ol' Dally. Make you feel better."

I shook my head. "No, I just want to be alone right now, Soda. I'm going to bed."

I could hear the first heavy drops of rain start as I closed the door to my bedroom.

xxxx

Monday morning was bright and clear and sunny, but it only made it seem more obvious that everything was turning out wrong.

I couldn't think about what had happened at my old house. It hardly felt real to me, but the evidence was written on my face, and none of Momma's tricks with the makeup brush could make it disappear completely. I suppose in a way I was glad I had something else to think about, even if it was just how guilty I felt over Two-Bit.

I was up and dressed early, having spent most of the night tossing and turning anyway. Darry was in the shower when I slipped out of my room, and judging from the relative quiet, Soda and Pony must have still been asleep. I padded silently into the living room and got the shock of my life when I spotted Dallas asleep on the couch.

I stood frozen for a minute, staring down at his sleeping form, trying to figure out if I was happy to see him again so soon, or angry, or just impressed that he'd had the gall to come back to Darry's house after walking out the way he had.

His lip had stayed split where Darry's fist had kissed it, and his eye was all kinds of colourful. The bruise spread across his cheekbone and up under the strands of hair falling across his face, but he didn't seem to have acquired any more wounds besides. Maybe Darry didn't know he was here.

I heard the shower turn off behind me, and before I could move Darry had emerged in a cloud of steam, freshly scrubbed and holding a towel in front of him. He started when he saw me, then wrapped the towel firmly around his waist, blushing slightly.

"Didn't know you were up," he grunted, shuffling past me, his eyes averted. He glanced over at the couch where Dallas was sprawled and shrugged apologetically. "Didn't have nowhere else to go. You know, rain and all. Get him off my couch, willya?"

He scarpered off down the hallway to his bedroom without saying anything else. I didn't suppose it was comfortable being all that naked around me; even though he was my cousin, _I _certainly wasn't comfortable seeing him without his clothes.

I tiptoed closer to Dallas and poked his shoulder gently.

He groaned, his body rolling and his eyes fluttering open. He gazed up at me blearily and I quickly pulled my hand back.

"Oh, you again," he mumbled, his eyes closing. "Just like making a constant temptation of yourself, don'tcha?"

I felt myself turn red. "Dallas, wake up."

He yawned and sat up. "I'm awake, I'm awake," he said, his voice thick with sleep. "If I was asleep you'd be on this couch with me."

I sat down stiffly on the chair across from him. "We have to talk."

"_Now?_"

"If you're gonna keep making those awful lewd comments around me, then yes."

Dally grimaced. "What the hell about?"

I took a deep breath. "I need to know what you're thinking. About me and you."

"Well, it's morning and I'm fucking horny-crazy thanks to you, so I'm thinkingthat _you _can take care of the coffee, _I_ need a goddamn minute," he said flatly, and tumbled off the couch. He slipped into the bathroom without a second look at me.

My face flaming, I went and did as he suggested, more for something to do to keep my mind of what he said than out of an actual desire for coffee.

He emerged just as I was getting it going, and sat down as far away as he could from where I was standing.

"I shouldn't have said that," he said awkwardly after a minute. "But hell, you can't just wake a guy up like that and expect normal conversation."

"And you can't just go around kissing me and dropping those awful hints and expect me just to keep quiet and smile," I said exasperated, turning around to glare at him.

He looked a little sheepish, his eyelids still heavy from sleep, his hair messy and t-shirt rumpled. He gave me a sleepy grin and raised his eyebrows. "Well, jeez, usually when I see a chick the morning after, I ain't so wound up, if you know what I mean."

"Jesus Christ, can't you keep it civil? For once?" Darry said, irritably, rolling up his shirtsleeves as he strode into the kitchen. "It's always sex, sex, sex, with you, Dallas, all the time. Don't you ever get bored of it?"

"What? Is that possible?"

Darry rolled his eyes. "Teenagers. Is that coffee?"

He nudged past me and poured himself a cup, then sat down opposite Dallas.

"Where's mine?" Dallas protested.

"You got yours last night," Soda yelped, bounding into the kitchen. He caught sight of me and stopped short. "Oops."

"Yeah, 'oops,'" I said sarcastically.

Darry shook his head and gave me a knowing look. "Well, if nothing else, Susie, you're going to go home at the end of all this with a thorough knowledge of what a teenage boy is all about and why you should avoid them at all costs. What the heck is the matter with the two of you?" he scolded, as Dallas and Soda snickered.

"Sure Darry," Soda said teasingly. "Just us _teenagers._"

Darry shot him a look above his coffee cup and Soda shut up.

"Y'all were so polite when we first met," I grumbled, setting two more cups for Soda and Dallas on the table.

"And you were so innocent and sweet," Soda said mildly.

"Yeah," Dally groaned, and Soda leaned over and gave him what looked like a real hard cuff to the head.

"I will kill you dead if you say that again," Darry said darkly. "Sorry, Susie, these two idiots ain't thinking properly."

"Darry, you know, she can hold her own," Dally started, but when Darry put his cup down and made to stand up, he shut up quickly.

"Don't think I ain't watching you," Darry snapped. "I shoulda made you sleep outside in the rain last night after you run out on Susie."

Dallas took a minute to answer, stirring about a quarter cup of sugar into his coffee, and swallowing most of it before meeting Darry's gaze.

"I ain't run out," he said finally. "I came back, didn't I?"

"And if it hadn't been raining?"

Dally shrugged, running a finger around the rim of his coffee cup. "Darrel, you want me to date your cousin, I could date your cousin. But I ain't turning into you for Christ's sake. You know how I date." He licked the coffee-soaked sugar off his finger and Soda kicked his chair.

Darry leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "Well, then maybe you oughtta clear outta hear awhile, for your own health. I ain't sure the two of you dating is such a good idea, anyway, Dally."

Dally shrugged, seemingly oblivious to the bite in Darry's voice. "Yeah, me neither." He glanced at Soda. "You?"

Soda shook his head. "You ain't a nice boy," he said in a breathy, high-pitched voice. "And Two-Bit ain't gonna be pleased."

Dally spun his mug around on the table, looking thoughtful. "'Swhat I was thinking, too. Guess I better find him, find out what he's got planned."

I stared, mouth agape. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but if you could be so kind as to let me know when you've decided my romantic future-"

"Will do," Dally said, standing up and stretching. "Sit tight, doll, you've made a mess of things, but me and Mathews'll sort it out."

He wandered over and set the cup down beside me, then leaned in close. "Thanks for the coffee."

Darry shoved his chair back roughly and grabbed Dallas's arm, pulling him away from me. "Out! You flirt with her again and it'll be the last thing you do."

"Okay, okay, I'm gone," Dally said, rubbing his arm. He was almost out the door when he spun and suddenly grinned, calling out across the kitchen to me. "Sorry, doll! Woulda been a nice change of pace."

xxxx

I refused to speak to either of my cousins after that morning's ridiculous conversation, and that meant taking a bus and a long walk into town to get to work for the lunch shift.

Ginny was her regular grumpy self, but even she seemed to notice I wasn't in my usual good mood. She gave me a wary once-over when I came in and pulled me aside after an hour to ask quietly where I'd gotten the black eye. I shrugged and told the time-honoured lie of having walked into a door, and her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing more on the subject.

Still, I felt her eyes on me as we worked the lunch-rush together in silence, and it only helped to keep my mind on her brother, and the confrontation that I knew had to be coming.

The diner was almost empty, and I was serving the last few stragglers lunch when the door crashed open, and Two-Bit finally strode in. I jumped, almost dumping a plate of spaghetti all over a customer.

Two-Bit stood, hands on hips in the doorway, looking around determinedly. His corner of his mouth and the knuckles of one hand were bloodied and one of his cheekbones was starting to darken in what promised to be a colourful bruise.

His eyes lit on me and I cringed. "Woman," he said flatly, his voice carrying easily in the quiet of the diner. "You are going to be the death of me, or the death of Dally Winston, and I don't like 'em odds."

xxxx

**A/N:** Argh, Two-Bit or Dally, Two-Bit or Dally?! I can't decide. Smart-ass puns or dirty jokes?


	20. You're not him

**Chapter 20: You're Not Him**

**A/N: **Thank God sexed-up Dallas took up that whole last chapter, because this one's much less fun. Two-Bit is serious bizniz, yall. I get the feeling this is a little cliché, or REALLY cliché lol, but it is a romance … meh, it was time to post a chapter, so you'll just have to tell me where it goes bad.

There is another nod to the book, here, Dally's words in Two-Bit's mouth.

**Disclaimer: **I've turned Dallas into a little kid and now Two-Bit into a punk … but S.E. Hinton still owns them, even if they are a little messed with.

xxxx

"Susie," Two-Bit said when he got to me, and I was surprised to smell a hint of alcohol on his breath. It wasn't hardly afternoon yet.

He ran a hand through his hair, not looking at me. "Alright, maybe I waited too long, maybe I already blew it, maybe you ain't never gonna get over Dallas, or maybe I been seeing something that ain't ever been there, but I like you. For Christ's sake, will you just shoot me down already?"

I set the plate down, smiled apologetically at the customer, and led Two-Bit behind the counter to the pantry. Ginny gave us a funny look as we went by but Two-Bit waved her off.

"You're hurt," I said anxiously, trying to wipe off the blood with my apron. His hand was worse than his mouth, and looked pretty painful, but he brushed off my attempts to clean it.

"Yeah, I had a chat with Dallas, and out of nowhere he got handsy with me." He tried a smile. "Heard he did the same with you."

I looked away. "He wasn't the only one to blame," I said haltingly, wishing I could have said otherwise.

He shrugged, leaning against a wall of burger buns and Wonder bread. "Sure. He said he was."

I looked at him quickly, surprised.

Two-Bit laughed, but I could tell he was faking. "Told me he'd kissed you to shut you up cuz you were upset over your old man. I told him not to take all the credit. You probably kissed him, seeing as you been chasing him more'n he's been chasing you."

I cringed, but he didn't even take a breath.

"Dally said no, it was all one-sided on his part, I said, nah, probably he'd managed to get the girl long ago. He said no, you were interested in _me_ and that he reckoned it was the right way to go and would back off. I said you'd always liked _him_ since you two was kids, and that he was probably the better catch anyway, what with those big ol' dead fish eyes of his. And somehow or other we ended up fighting over it. Knew I was right though."

"Oh, get away from that bread," I said, pulling on him, my face red. "You're a health hazard, even if you are the better catch. Never seen a fish with his mouth closed neither."

"Hey now," he protested. "You can't go insulting me, you're the one who up and kissed someone else."

I knew I should be contrite. I knew I was the one in the wrong. But I'd gone over it again and again in my head waiting for him to appear today, and I was tired of feeling guilty just because someone else had the bad taste to like me. There were plenty of reasons from that morning and yesterday to put me already in a foul mood and the guilt wasn't making me any kinder.

I put my hands on my hips and stared him down. "And where were you to stop it? I waited ages for you to ask me out properly, but I didn't get no phone call, Two-Bit Mathews."

"I had things to do," he said vaguely. "I figured you knew I was going to."

"Running around town telling everyone about my father, you mean?" I shot back and he reddened. "And you the one who told me not to talk about people's parents!"

"Now I only told them to make sure they knew to watch out for you in case any crazy looking old man was following you around town. Didn't think so much that anyone would use that information as an excuse to go on the make, but gotta give Dallas credit where credit is due. He is a genius at tricking girls into bed."

I slapped him before I could even think.

It was probably the gentlest slap in the history of women slapping men. A part of me had been expecting some dramatic sound that would silence him, but all that came out was a tiny little _tink._ Certainly he'd experienced worse. Still, he stepped back in surprise, and I stared at him, just as shocked.

"I'm sorry," I said, dumbfounded. "But he didn't get me into bed."

He touched his cheek ruefully. "Oh. Well. I guess I figured."

"And anyway, it didn't help none, you blabbing all over town. In case you didn't notice I went looking for trouble and found it."

He looked at me quickly and his eyes lit on the bruise on my cheek. He swore softly. "Yeah, Dally mentioned."

I threw up my hands. "You boys just love to gossip, don't you?"

"I can see it with my own eyes, anyway, Susie," he pointed out.

I crossed my arms and glared at the floor, saying nothing, and he seemed to relax, chuckling softly.

I was glad I'd seen the way Dallas had reacted to his father's beating. I wasn't surprised no more by boys laughing at the worst possible moments. Didn't he know we were _fighting_, for goodness sake?

"Don't pout, now," Two-Bit said soothingly. "I swear I didn't mean nothing by it, Susie. Everyone knows everyone's business around here, and the way I figure it, sometimes talking behind people's back ain't so cruel. Seems to me it's easier than forcing the person to talk about it themselves."

I considered this, remembering the way Dally's eyes had widened in anger when I'd brought up his father in front of Darry and Soda.

"What do you know about Dally's dad?" I asked before I could stop myself.

Two-Bit looked at me, startled. "Oh, probably about as much as he does. Which is to say, not much. I know enough about the ol' vet he claims he's not really related to, though. His old lady and mine used to be tight before she up and quit him."

"You talk about that all over town too?"

"No," he said, laughing. "Of all the people I know, Dally loves his secrets best. He'd flat out kill me if I talked. Mystery's the only thing he's got working for him. Can't have it out in the open that he's just like the rest of us, only blonder."

"He don't seem so mysterious to me."

"Yeah, well, you and Sylvia have that in common now, knowing for real that Mr. New York City puts his pants on one leg at a time. Don't shoot!" He put his hands up and I realized I'd almost slapped him again for the insinuation. "Now ain't I got any reason to be pissed off here, too?"

I dropped my hand quickly. "I don't know why I did that. I never hit nobody before."

He shrugged. "Spend enough time around here, anybody would learn to hit first and ask questions later. You ain't the first."

I fiddled with my apron. "Well, I'm sorry."

"For hitting me? Or for making out with Dallas?"

I blushed in spite of myself. "How much did he tell you?"

Two-Bit snorted. "I read between the lines. He started out like it was nothing but a chaste peck on the lips, but by the time I had him in a choke hold he got pretty mad, and started doing things to you I'm certain you ain't never heard of."

I shook my head in disbelief. "He _lied_?"

"Yes, sweetheart, Dallas lied," Two-Bit said, laughing again. "It's what he does, for Christ's sake."

I looked away. I wasn't sure who to be mad at anymore. I just couldn't understand _boys._ "I guess I didn't meant to, Two-Bit. I wasn't aiming for it to happen, we was just talking and he kissed me."

"So, it was his fault, huh."

"Well, he started it. But I can't lie, I wasn't stopping him."

He nodded soberly. "Well, I suppose I ain't got reason to complain since I never asked you out proper."

If he'd been looking for something to say to disarm me, he'd found it. My anger dissolved, like it had done so many times before in his presence. I couldn't argue against him, if he was going to argue for me.

"Why didn't you ask me out, Two-Bit?" I said finally. "I would have said yes."

He shrugged. "Well, I meant to."

I nodded but he just fiddled with his t-shirt and didn't continue.

"But?" I prompted.

"I figured I'd give you a few days first. Sort out for yourself what you was feeling, about, well, you know who." He chucked. "I ain't looking to be your Two-Bit on the side. Get it?"

"How many days is 'a few' to you?"

He sighed gustily. "Well, here's the thing. Five or six days ago, well I was meaning to call, but I ran into my old girlfriend Kathy."

I don't know what I was expecting to hear, but it certainly wasn't that. I felt my mouth drop open. It hadn't occurred to me that _he_ might have other choices.

"Now it's not what you're thinking."

I felt my hands ball into fists. "You don't have no clue what I'm thinking, Two-Bit Mathews. If you want to go running around town with some other floozy, I won't stop you."

He grinned. "Boy, I never figured you for the jealous type."

"I'm not!"

He smirked. "Sure. Well, I ain't aiming to give you a taste of your own medicine, but how you think I felt watching you chase around Dallas? And you ain't even know Kathy. I know Dallas. I _like_ Dallas, in theory, anyway. Still wanted to neuter him since I saw the way you looked at him from the start."

I looked away, my heart beating hard. "I never meant-"

"I know, I know," he said impatiently. "Anyway, I ain't getting back together with Kathy."

"There's nothing between her and you no more?"

"Nothing. Except her chastity belt."

I shot him an annoyed look and he grinned sheepishly. "Well, hey it ain't every day I get to see a chick jealous over me."

I folded my arms across my chest. "So, what about her? I suppose seeing her again gave you second thoughts about me?" I wasn't prepared for the swell of pain that went through me at the thought. I hadn't realized I felt so strongly. I suppose it's true, what they say about wanting what you think you can't have.

Two-Bit shook his head. "If it did, those second thoughts were the same as the first, and they all come out in your favour."

"Then what does this Kathy have to do with you not calling me?"

He scuffed his shoe against the pantry floor. "Kathy's got a mean streak that could make Dally look like a pussycat. I'd rather tangle with him any day – a fist ain't got ulterior motives."

"She say something about me?"

He glanced at me quickly. "Nothing bad. Was real nice about you, talked you up like you was really something special, what with all she's heard about you from Evie and Sandy and Sylvia. Said everyone was saying how you really deserve someone who's a somebody, how you're so nice and sweet and good-looking it'd take someone really, really special to capture your interest. Of course, she'd heard gossip about you and ol'Dallas but she was sure you were too good for a greaser like him, too. Like I said, she was real nice, but I guess that's the problem."

I sighed. "You're not making sense."

He shrugged. "Well, all you need to know is, what she said got to me. I keep up with her okay most times, but she knows how to go for the kill. Thought I'd try to wash out the words with a little beer – you know how alcohol disinfects. Don't reckon the fuzz have caught on about that though, and I didn't think that'd impress you all that much, especially after what she said."

I shook my head, frustrated. "Two-Bit, I like that you're witty, I do, but sometimes I just want to hear the answers in plain English."

"In plain English. Okay," he said patiently. "I ended up boozing up and clowning around in public pretty bad to forget how much I don't deserve you, and well, I didn't get more'n a fine and a night in the tank, but I'm not proud of myself for it, Susie. What am I supposed to do – ask you out to the courthouse?"

I stared at him. "You were in jail?"

He looked straight at me, and suddenly his expression cooled. The tiny crinkles around his laughing eyes smoothed and his grey eyes suddenly reminded me of stone. His smile seemed aloof.

"The drunk tank ain't hardly real jail, Susie," he said pleasantly. "Some other time, I'll explain to you in detail where the two defer."

My eyes widened. "You've been in jail for real?"

He chuckled. "Sure, baby, but only for having fun. Guess what I've been in for?"

I shivered, and crossed my arms around me. This wasn't the Two-Bit I knew.

He walked over to me, planting himself an inch from my nose and stood half-slouching over me, his thumbs hooked into his jeans' belt loops. "Well, now who's having second thoughts, Miss Susie," he said lowly. "You thought Dally Winston was the only bad boy in town?"

I looked up at him sharply, ready to remind him that I had held my own against Dallas this far, and he couldn't be much worse, but when I met his gaze it fell away and I couldn't stop the smile spreading out across my face.

His expression didn't change, but I knew he was surprised. "What are you smiling at?"

He had all the cool façade Dally had, but there was something in his face that I had to admit I'd never seen in Dallas. I'd seen lust before, and I had known that Dallas wanted me. More than once he'd wanted to posses me and conquer me for his own. But I never truly saw anything that told me that he liked me.

Two-Bit's face was impassive, his posture almost menacing, but even through his steely look I could see his eyes searching mine for some hint of what I felt, and I knew he still wanted me to like him. He still cared.

"Two-Bit," I said gently, "you ain't Dallas."

"You think this is the first time I been arrested? Got a record as long as his, though not as varied," Two-Bit said quickly. "I may be more like ol'Dally than you thought."

"Two-Bit Mathews, you are nothing like him!"

"No? Think about it."

"I am thinking about it, and you aren't the same at all," I insisted. "You're funny and smart, and you can be a gentleman when you want to be. I don't think Dallas even knows the meaning of the words 'thank you.' Not to mention you ain't so dirty."

Two-Bit had a funny little smile on his face that I'd never seen before. "Well, I shower more often than him, I'll give you that. Otherwise, I don't see a whole helluva lot of difference. We both drink, lie, cheat, steal, get in fights, get arrested, date around … I ain't aiming to turn you offa me Susie, but hell, you knew all this about Dallas anyway, and that ain't never stopped you. Maybe the only difference is he would never hide none of this from nobody and I ain't exactly wearing my rap sheet like a medal."

"That seems like a world of difference to me, Two-Bit."

"We're both greasers, we're both bad news, Susie." Two-Bit hardly seemed to be paying attention to me now. "We all end up at the same place anyway, just like our parents."

"You're wrong!" I shouted and Two-Bit jumped. "We ain't chained to our parents like that Two-Bit, we ain't! Don't you think we're allowed not to follow in their footsteps?"

He stared at me, then flushed crimson. "Sorry, Susie, I forgot. But it's the truth."

"It ain't," I said stubbornly. "And stop comparing yourself to Dallas. You ain't him, and neither of you are anybody's father."

"We all go that way, Susie." His breathing was rapid and he kept swallowing nervously. "We don't want to, but we do. I can see it, the older we get, I can see it starting. Look at Dallas, you heard what he said about running out on Sylvia. If he stuck around he'd get the same as his old man, just angry about getting trapped and taking it out on his kid. He already takes out his hurt on whoever's closest any time something or someone gets to him."

"You're not him," I said softly. "And Sylvia wasn't pregnant-"

"This time," he cut in harshly. "But even if Dallas don't knock her up, she ain't known for her loyalty. She'd have no trouble sticking him with a kid that wasn't his, either, and taking off on them both like her momma did, hell, like Dally's did, too. And then he'd really end up in the same damn situation he's got. Girls ain't immune, either, and of all of them, Sylvia knows the score best."

I shook my head. "That don't prove that you'll end up being the same. That's just Sylvia and Dallas."

"It ain't just Dallas," he said stubbornly. "Look at Steve – now I know you ain't met his old man, but he's an angry drunk what can't control his temper or his words. Steve ain't a drunk, but he's angry alright, and he can get downright mean without meaning to, I seen it. The Curtises were decent enough but they're dead, and every day Darry gets a little rougher. And he's gonna take Soda and Pony right with him – Pony's already just the same as him except in miniature."

"Soda wouldn't let that happen! And Darry's just tired from working is all."

"Yeah, and he's only gonna get tireder from working all day every day and bitterer about not getting to do half the things a guy his age ought to." Two-Bit took a harsh breath, and turned away, rubbing his eyes.

I looked away. What he said about Darry I'd seen since I got there. He and Ponyboy could annoy each other something awful but Soda had set them straight each time, patiently, laughingly, cajoling them back into a family. He would never stop doing that, I was sure.

Two-Bit took a minute before he started up again, quietly.

"Only Johnny, man, Johnny could break out. He won't ever be like his old man, ever, it ain't possible. He's going to grow up and be the same kid he is now, sweet and shy and-" He grinned, rubbing his head, then laughed.

"What?" I said, eager for him to leave behind this melancholy that seemed so foreign to the Two-Bit I knew.

"Well, if he ever gets over his fear of girls and slips a chick one, he'll be a good dad someday, maybe the only good dad around, cuz for all that he's got going, he'd be the last one I'd ever expect to leave the neighbourhood."

I nodded slowly. "And where does this leave you?"

"Me?" He shook his head slowly. "When my old man was around he was a useless, good-for-nothing, deadbeat, lazy sonuvabitch. You ain't been around here the last few years, but you say that combination of words to anyone who has, and they'll tell you exactly who else comes to mind."

I stared at him, shocked to the core at the bitterness in his words. He'd spent all this time seeing the best in me, despite all I'd done to try and turn myself into someone else. It made me sad that he couldn't see the best in himself.

"You're not him," I said loudly. "You're not Dallas, and you're not your father, Two-Bit Mathews."

He shook his head. "Why should I be any different, Susie? The truth is I ain't."

"I suppose you think I'll end up the same then," I said slowly, knowing exactly how he'd respond. "Just some floozy who gets knocked up and ends up bitter and ditched by her husband."

He grinned, still staring at the floor. "Hell no. Why the heck are you still trying to prove your alter ego is Sylvia? From day one you were different. The opposite, even."

"So were you," I said quietly. "Why can you see everyone so clearly and not yourself?"

He shook his head again but said nothing.

I sighed, irritated. "It's okay, you don't have to see what I see. I'll just have to see the good in you for both of us, and believe you me, that I can do."

He looked up at me and smiled finally, genuine like, and it was like the sun had just come out, or the band started playing, or any of those moments you start to think someone made up in a story because it sounded good. It was like that moment, on a summer's night, sitting in the bleachers at a pickup baseball game in the neighbourhood, eating ice-cream while it got dark, and suddenly the floodlights go on, and everyone cheers, and the home team hits a home run over the fence, out of the park, into the stars. It was that moment that's not supposed to really exist.

Then his eyes flicked to the bruise on my face, and that movement shook me out of my romantic daydreams. He touched it gently with a fingertip and his smile faltered.

"Well, okay," he said finally, and stepped back.

'Well, okay' was just not good enough.

Something had sparked in me with Dallas, and even as I regretted that this moment still had anything to do with him, I was glad that all I'd experienced with him gave me the courage to step forward now.

Two-Bit's eyes got bigger the closer I got to him, but when I kissed him, his arms went around me and he responded easily. Kissing Dallas had been sloppy, and I'd been too stunned to notice much beyond the fact that what I'd wanted for so long was actually happening. He'd been all edges and shock, but kissing Two-Bit I'd never been more aware of my own body or someone else's. I'd never known how warm a person could feel. My body burned where we touched, his hands on my back, his chest under my fingertips, his thighs against mine, his lips pressed against my mouth.

"Where did you learn to do that," he said thickly, when we finally stopped.

I smiled. "Well, now, you ain't the only one who's growing up around here, Two-Bit. I know more'n you give me credit for.

He grinned. "I think I'm gonna need you to prove it."

I laughed along with him until he shut me up again with his mouth.

xxxx

**A/N: **This was the longest conversation scene EVER. But at least I'm finally nice to Two-Bit. Ish.


	21. Can't have you touching my things, bitch

**Chapter 21: Can't have you touching my things, bitch**

**A/N: **Sylvia makes a comeback finally! Missed that beeyotch. Also another old friend. ;) Just returning the gift, Mars.

Another random line from the book is buried in here. I dunno, I think I used to really love Where's Waldo books as a kid or something.

**Disclaimer:** These ladies are technically S.E. Hinton's although they may not be at all what she had in mind.

xxxx

"Not that I don't enjoy seeing my own brother playing tonsil hockey or nothing …"

I jumped, and caught Two-Bit staring back at me with sleepy-looking eyes. I whirled around and Ginny was standing there, her arms folded in front of her and an expression of half-amusement, half-disgust on her face.

"Ginny!" I flushed and tried to jump away from Two-Bit, but he grabbed me and held me close to him. "We was just, um, just …"

She smirked. "Yeah, I can see that."

"We're doing inventory," Two-Bit said. "Get lost, kid, you're messing up the counting."

"You can count?" Ginny said wonderingly.

"I'd knock you one, but I'm in a good mood for some reason," Two-Bit said mildly. "Gotta say, you being here is kinda ruining that mood."

Ginny made a horrified face and clamped her hands over her ears. "I don't want to hear about your _mood_, Keith Mathews!"

I shot him a look, but he only grinned. "Ginny, I'll be right out."

She shook her head. "No, you won't. I have bad news. The ladies have arrived and Sylvia's been hollering a blue streak about wanting to kick your ass for some reason, Susie. Any ideas?"

I looked at Two-Bit, and he looked back at me.

"Uh-oh, SpaghettiOs?" he suggested.

Ginny snorted. "This is serious, Two-Bit. She could really mess Susie up."

Two-Bit rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah. Mess up her lipstick, I'm sure."

"This is bad." I tried to pull away from him, but he pulled me back close again. "Two-Bit! I have to go talk to her."

"Just a sec," he mumbled against me. "Need me a shield. That's my baby sister, you know."

"I'm pretending you don't exist, you pervert," Ginny said loudly, holding up a hand in front of her eyes to cover Two-Bit. "And you don't want to talk, believe me, Susie. You want to beat it out of here. I don't figure you for the fighting type, and Sandy and Evie can only hold Sylvia back so long. Come on, I'll distract 'em, you slip out the back."

She hurried out before I could say anything.

"Whew," Two-Bit said, letting me go finally. "Good thing I've got a car, or I'd never get any what with that nosey half-pint running around."

I pulled my apron off anxiously. I hadn't been in a fight since before I'd left Tulsa, and even then, only the kind of dirt-throwing grade school scuffles, where the worst that could happen was a bruise or two. I had no idea how rough a girl like Sylvia would play. "I've got to get out of here – does Sylvia do like Dallas and carry weapons?"

Two-Bit laughed. "No! Good grief. She's a girl!"

"So am I," I shot back. "And I ain't the fighting type, Two-Bit."

"I'll protect you," he said gallantly. "But if you want to make a run for it, my car's in the lot behind the Dairy Queen across the street. Lot of people hanging out there, too, maybe she won't want to cause a scene."

I stared at him in disbelief. "Are we still talking about Sylvia?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Okay. You might get hollered at a little."

We hurried out the back door and through the alleyway that led to the street. The Dairy Queen had a big gravel lot that was half-empty at this time of day, and I could see Two-Bit's junker parked along the side of it.

We'd hardly made it two steps across the gravel when I heard her shriek my name.

"Susie Shipman, I oughtta pull every boy-thieving hair from your head!"

She was standing outside Gina's, her hands balled into fists, her eyes narrow with fury. Sandy and Evie were hurrying from the diner, casting nervous glances at Sylvia, who, I noticed, had perfect curls in spite of her anger.

"Whoops, guess we got caught," Two-Bit said good-naturedly, slowing down.

"Keep going!" I urged, feeling terror overtake me as Sylvia crossed the street.

He shrugged. "Why don't you just have it out? She'll follow you to the ends of the earth, now she knows you kissed her whipping post."

I looked at him. "Don't tell me you _want_ to see us fight?"

He looked a little guilty. "Don't worry, I won't let her touch you. But it's been a mighty slow summer, Susie."

"I can't believe you!"

He put an arm around me. "Don't worry! It's only a chick-fight. Like I said, I promise I won't let her lay a hand on your pretty face. But anyway, Susie, it's better to face her and hear all she's got to say than have her running around town talking trash and letting people say you're a coward."

I sighed, hearing the sense in his words. And anyway, Sylvia was too close by now to do anything about it.

"Sylvia, I'm sorry," I started quickly, as soon as she was within earshot. "I didn't mean it."

She ignored me, walked right up to where we were standing and slapped me hard across the face.

"Shit!" Two-Bit said, scrambling to pull me back. "Didn't see that coming."

"Bitch!" Sylvia snapped. "'You didn't mean it?' You been trying to get in his pants since the beginning of the summer!"

She was trying to get in another slap, but I was prepared this time, dodging back and forth. Two-Bit was standing so close he kept tripping the two of us up.

"Easy there, tiger," Two-Bit said laughing, slipping between Sylvia and me. He stood in front of me with his arms and legs splayed to shield me. "Act like a lady, Sylvia. Why don't you try using your words-"

"Out of my way," Sylvia snarled, grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him hard between the legs.

Two-Bit dropped like a ton of bricks, swearing worse than I'd ever heard a person swear before. I wasn't even sure half of what he said were real words, but I wasn't real concerned with trying to figure it out, seeing Sylvia come at me like a demon possessed.

"Bitch, he is _mine!_"

I tried to explain to her that it hadn't been my idea, but she was on me before I could get the words out, her fingers tangling in my hair.

I screamed and pulled back but it only made her hang on tighter, swinging me from side to side. Watching the world spin upside down, I could just make out the words she was yelling between angry gasps.

"He ain't yours to kiss, you slut!"

Well, that made me mad. I grabbed wildly at her skirt and heard a loud tear and a shriek and she let go of my hair.

"I didn't start it, he kissed me!" I yelled over my shoulder, scrambling across the parking lot. I caught a quick look of a crowd of amused looking boys and anxious girls forming around us before I felt her kick at my legs. I tripped and ended up on my knees, feeling the gravel bite into my knees.

"Don't you lie to me, whore!" she hollered, tripping on her skirts as she tried to grab me. "I seen you making eyes at him this whole time!"

I kicked back at her, spraying gravel. "Well, maybe you shoulda been nicer to him!"

"You told me he would leave me! You broke us up!" she screamed, throwing a handful of gravel at me as I pushed myself to my feet. "You liar!"

"I was telling the truth," I bellowed and she leapt to her feet, slapping at me wildly.

"Like hell you were!"

"I was!"

She shoved me hard and I went flying, skidding across the gravel on my elbows and back. I braced myself for her to kick me, or jump on me, but when nothing happened I rolled over and pushed myself quickly to my knees. Sylvia was struggling out of Timothy Shepard's grip, her wild eyes still on me.

"Come on, now, Sylvia, I heard you a mile away. Quit making a scene." Shepard was having trouble holding her back but I could hear the laughter in his voice. It was the same tone Two-Bit had used on her a second before she'd downed him, and I knew he was doomed.

"Let me go!" Sylvia dodged through his arms and Shepard rolled his eyes, reaching out lazily and catching her arm.

"Good Christ, if Dally caught you acting like this," Shepard drawled, and Sylvia whirled around and straight socked him one right in the nose.

Shepard stumbled back cursing, putting a hand up to his face. It came away bloody, and he stared at it in disbelief. "Are you kidding me with this shit?"

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Sylvia screamed. "Run right on back to Dallas and tell him I up and hit you like a good dog!"

Shepard growled something I couldn't make out but I was sure it was foul. He charged at Sylvia, side-stepped another wild punch from her without blinking, and grabbed her around the waist. He swung her over his shoulder easily, the muscles stretching under his tight t-shirt.

She shrieked loud enough to deafen an army and kicked at his midsection, but Shepard didn't seem to notice. He marched over to the edge of the parking lot with her slung over his shoulder like a sack of nicely dressed potatoes. I could hear her swear at him the whole way.

I hurried over to where Two-Bit was curled up in the foetal position. "Are you okay?"

He groaned. "I think I saw Jesus."

"I'm so sorry she hit you," I said, putting a hand on his back. "Can you stand?"

"I _wish_ she'd hit me," he said mournfully, but managed to sit up, one hand clutching his groin. "Well, that's put a stop to the romantics between us for awhile, that's for damn sure. Some protector I am, huh?"

"I told you," I said. "She even got your King Shepard."

Two-Bit perked up. "No shit?"

I glanced over to where Shepard had taken Sylvia. He was standing with his head tipped back, holding his nose and ignoring Sylvia. Sylvia was sitting on the ground with her arms and legs crossed, Evie and Sandy talking to her quietly, their hands on her arms.

"Tim!" Two-Bit hollered, staggering upright. "You get her down?"

Sylvia, Sandy and Evie shot Two-Bit a look that could have melted iron and he winced.

"I'm down because I want to be," Sylvia called angrily.

Shepard glanced contemptuously at Sylvia and started over towards us, shaking his head. He kept the fingers of one hand pinching the bridge of his nose, which was still leaking blood. He stood next to Two-Bit, who was wincing, a hand on his lower gut. The pair of them exchanged a dark look.

"Dally must be some kind of masochist," Tim muttered. "Always knew he was a twisted little shit."

"I'd never let that chick near my dick, I tell you," Two-Bit added wearily. "She'd bite it off."

I knew he was hurting, but I shot him a dirty look. His eyes widened and he waved jerkily at his crotch in response.

"Susie!"

I looked over at the sound of my name, and saw Evie and Sandy waving me over. Sylvia was staring at the ground, still fuming.

I took two steps and both Shepard and Two-Bit reached out a hand to stop me.

"Listen little Curtis, I wouldn't go over there," Shepard warned me, his deep voice rumbling. "You don't know what you're dealing with."

"She'll shred you with them claws," Two-Bit added. He looked at Tim. "Even if she did already use up her lucky punch today."

I thought I could see Shepard redden slightly, but it could have been just a trick of the light. I didn't miss the look he gave Two-Bit though, and Two-Bit shut up real quick.

"I can handle it, thank you, Mister Shepard," I said, as politely as I could. Even with blood trickling down his face, just standing next to him was making me short of breath.

His eyes widened, and I saw they were a deep, dark blue, not black as I'd thought before. He pressed his lips together tightly, the corners twitching, but let go of my arm.

"_Mister Shepard_?" I heard him say incredulously to Two-Bit as I crossed the gravel. "You tell that little chick I'm fucking forty or something you wise-ass?"

Two-Bit was howling with laughter and didn't respond.

I heard Shepard mutter darkly: "Your whole damn gang acts like a bunch of six-year-olds. Batshit crazy, all a y'all. Ain't no wonder you're the only bunch that'll deal with that shit-for-brains towhead."

His words trailed off, but I could hear him cursing under his breath and Two-Bit cackling all the way across the parking lot.

I crouched down in the gravel next to Sylvia, Sandy and Evie. Sylvia was calm now, looking at me with the same shrewd gaze that I'd seen on Dallas plenty of times before.

"I didn't mean it," I said dumbly.

"Like hell, you didn't."

"Susie, I never would have expected this from you," Evie marvelled.

"I saw the way Dallas was looking at her," Sandy said grimly.

"Not that he could see much past you," Evie added quickly, when Sylvia turned her glare on Sandy.

Sandy shook her head. "Every boy wants what he ain't got, and innocence is one thing you'll never have, Sylvia."

"Good riddance," Sylvia snapped. "Dallas or innocence, I don't need neither."

Evie was still looking at me, wonderingly. "I thought you was all good girl all the time."

"Ain't none of us are all good girl all the time," Sandy said defensively.

"That's the truth," Sylvia said, almost triumphantly.

I looked at Sylvia carefully. I'd torn her skirt in our fight and she had a long scratch down her arm, from the gravel or me I couldn't say. Her curls were wild and mussed, but if anything it just suited her more.

She looked back just as hard and then patted the ground next to her. "Sit."

I did, and she reached for my face. I flinched, but she only touched the bruise around my eye gently with a finger. "I do that?"

I shook my head. "My daddy."

"Pfft. Asshole," she said carelessly, then poked at my skinned knees and elbows, the bruises blossoming around them like daisies in the spring. "Now I know I did all that."

I nodded, hesitating. "But I suppose I deserved it."

"You bet your ass you did, and I ain't sorry," she said matter-of-factly. "I can't have you touching my things, bitch."

I picked the gravel from my knees, not looking at her. "You was broken up already and he made the first pass at me, I swear it, Sylvia."

She took my chin firmly in her hand and forced me to look at her. "Don't think that lets you off the hook. It was a stupid, stupid thing to do. Boys like Dallas are gonna take what they can get, and maybe it ain't fair, but you the one that's gonna have to stop 'em. I know my Dally, and once he get an idea in his head, he ain't gonna stop himself come hell or high water, even if he changes his mind half way through. Dumb as mud sometimes, cuz he'll know it ain't gonna get him what he wants in the end, but he'll do it anyway just cuz. That's a boy's logic for you."

I started at her lecturing tone. It reminded me too much of Momma, and I couldn't help feeling ashamed.

She let go of me but didn't look away and after a second I felt the need to make it up to her.

"He did stop himself, you know."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really."

"He did. We didn't … you know. Do that. I reckon I would have stopped it, too, but he stopped first. Said it felt wrong."

She digested this. "Well. Okay. Want a cigarette, bitch?"

I shook my head, and she pulled out a pack, motioning to Evie and Sandy. Everyone sat down to have a smoke and relax.

"Y'all fight and then smoke together, just like the boys?" I asked, marvelling at the way the tension seemed to have disappeared like the smoke.

"We _are_ just like the boys, ain't you figured that out?" Evie said irritably. "They like to tell us different, and sure, we smell better, and look better, and fight a little less on account of our bigger brains, but we ain't so different as they'd like to think. Jesus Christ, ain't you never heard of women's lib?"

I looked at her quickly. "No man wants a woman's libber."

"Fuck that, Dallas loves it," Sylvia said, exhaling smoke. She thought a minute. "Only don't tell him that."

"He _what_?"

She looked at me and grinned. "Bet you never thought of that, eh? He'd hate a good girl, a soft, useless thing he had to watch out for all the time. I can take care of myself and I could take care of him too, and he knows it."

I kept my mouth shut, but somehow I didn't think Dallas would agree with her.

She glanced at Evie and winked. "He likes that I could take care of It, too. Don't reckon you'd know the first thing about _that_, Lil' Miss Boyfriend-Kisser."

Evie snorted. "It's not rocket science. A little kissing and a hand where he's warmest. Take you less than five minutes."

"Maybe you," Sylvia said, annoyed. "I can make it last."

"I'll bet Dally just loves that," Sandy said dryly. "He seems like he's got ample patience." We all looked at her in surprise, and then Evie and Sylvia about died laughing.

"Oh, pooh on the both of you," Sandy said over their howling, her face red as a tomato. "I'm just glad you ain't fighting no more."

Sylvia tossed her hair. "Well, now the bitch knows not to mess with my shit, there ain't no reason to mess up my nails, is there?"

I didn't much like the way she was referring to me, but I was glad at least that she wasn't throwing any more punches.

"So, are we okay?" I asked timidly.

She was silent for a minute considering. "If you touch him again, I will destroy you."

"He's all yours," I promised.

She gave me a funny look. "No, he ain't. I dumped him remember?"

I stared at her, and Evie gave a short barking laugh.

"One second he's all yours, the next he ain't, make up your mind, Sylvia," she teased.

Sylvia shrugged. "When he's mine, he's mine, when he's not mine, he's nobody's. Savvy?"

I glanced at Sandy and she shot me a grin, but neither of us said anything. Somehow, after this summer, I was brave enough to yell at Dally Winston, brave enough to visit my father by my lonesome and brave enough to kiss Two-Bit Mathews and mean it. But I wasn't brave enough to tell Sylvia she was crazy.

Sylvia stretched her arms above her head, and arched her back in a pose that made her look like a pinup girl. "Y'all think what you want, but you don't know him like I do."

Sandy shuddered. "Thank God."

I heard hollering and glanced across the parking lot. Tim Shepard had Two-Bit in a headlock and they were horsing around like a couple of eight-year-olds. Two-Bit waved at me, upside down, and Shepard let go of him quickly. He pointed at Two-Bit and gave me a serious look that I could read even as far away as I was: it's _his_ fault.

It made me smile and I tried one of Two-Bit's lines on Sylvia. "I guess you're the only person in the world who knows that Dallas puts his pants on one leg at a time, just like anybody else."

She looked at me quizzically. "No, he doesn't."

Evie, Sandy and I exchanged a confused look, and Sylvia stared into space. She smiled suddenly, her beauty coming out in full force for no one at all. Her grin widened until she was laughing out loud.

"He don't put them on one leg at a time. He sits on the bed and shoves both feet in at the same time, and then stands up and jumps around until they're on. He doesn't really care if they're on properly, same as his shoes, same as his shirt. He once jammed his hand into his shirt so hard, he put a hole through it."

Evie rolled her eyes. "Go figure. He can't even do that properly."

Sylvia wrapped her arms around her knees, looking wistful. "He's too loud and too stupid and too mean and he cares too much and not enough. But I love that dumb kid. And he needs me. He'd walk out the door with his shirt sticking out of his zipper nine times outta ten without me around."

Sandy rolled her eyes. "Oh, here we go."

Evie stubbed her cigarette out in the gravel. "One of these times, Sylvia, you're going to call him back and he's not going to come running."

"I think you could get him, this time, though," I said slowly, trying to bite back the urge to somehow keep them apart _just in case._ "I think he's still hooked."

Sylvia straightened, tossing her hair, her eyes gleaming with that all too familiar look of girlish deviousness.

"Oh, I know I still got Dally hooked," she said confidently. "Y'all want proof – you'll come to Buck's tonight."


	22. Party at Buck's - the Dallymance ends?

**Chapter 22: Party at Buck's and the Dallymance Ends?**

**A/N:** Okay, so have to warn you all that I got super self-indulgent and brought back Tim Shepard again for absolutely no reason. He and good ol' Dally stopped up all the action, too, but it'll be there next chapter.

**Disclaimer:** All of them belong to Susie except Susie.

xxxx

I'd been planning on coercing Two-Bit into being my date for the evening again – I wasn't real fond of the idea of going to Buck Merrill's party to see Sylvia in action all by my lonesome. But I didn't have to worry. He showed up unannounced after my shift, a grin on his face, wearing clean jeans and a shirt with buttons.

"My, you certainly clean up nice," I marvelled, sliding into the passenger seat. "What's the occasion?"

He shrugged, looking pleased. "Wasted enough time with you as it is. Figured we could swing by ol' Bucky's tonight, have a drink – or a coke, yeah, yeah. On me."

"I'll need to stop by the Curtises first and change," I told him. "Can't have you showing me up looking so nice."

He grinned. "Aw, shucks, you're gonna make me blush."

I grinned back. I might have been overdoing it on the compliments a little, but it was the least I could do after all I'd put him through. And it sure did feel nice to be kind to someone and have it work out the way I expected. Dallas and Sylvia never seemed to do what they were supposed to, and keeping up with their surprises was exhausting.

"I was going to ask and see if you wanted to go by there tonight anyway," I said as we sped through the city. "Sylvia invited me after we made up."

"I'll bet," he chuckled. "By my calculations, that little chick is gonna make her stand with Dallas tonight, and you'll get the chance to see a real chick fight when the two of them start going at it."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "How did you know?"

He shrugged. "It's happened about a million times before. She'll break up with Dallas, he'll piss and moan about it for about a week, but he always manages to find someone who's interested besides her. Then she'll get her panties in a twist about it, and suddenly want him back."

I looked at him appraisingly. "The way you tell it, it seems like it's always her fault."

He laughed. "Don't it? Well, I hear Dally's side of it mostly. He swears he's always faithful when they're actually going out, but his relationship with the truth is on rockier terms even that his relationship with Sylvia. And anyway, ignoring a chick for weeks on end to run around with Shepard probably ain't much better. He ain't particularly interested in spending time with women for anything other than the obvious. But that don't give her license to run around dating anything in a cowboy hat when he ain't looking at her."

I frowned. "Well, what is she supposed to do when she's waiting on him? It can get awful boring waiting around on a boy."

He made a face at me. "Yeah, look I said I was sorry didn't I? And anyway, I don't know what chicks do when they ain't thinking about guys, but there must be _something_. You all talk so much it can't just be about us … can it?"

I shrugged, feeling a little sheepish at guilting him. "Well, from what I've seen we think about romance and dating boys about as much as boys think about sex."

He laughed for about a minute.

"I can't imagine Dallas waiting for weeks on end without what Sylvia has to offer and not getting annoyed," I pointed out and he waved at me dismissively.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time," he said, still chuckling. "I think Dally'd probably spontaneously explode."

He glanced at me slyly and added under his breath: "Literally."

"Two-Bit Mathews, I don't want to hear about it!" I said loudly, over his cackling.

We pulled up to the house as the sun was starting to set and I ran inside, brushing past a freshly showered Sodapop and hustling into the bathroom with my makeup kit and a change of clothes.

It took me maybe twenty minutes to get ready, and I was rushing, but that didn't stop Soda and Two-Bit pounding on the door and hollering at me to hurry up.

I'd pulled on a light cotton summer dress – it made me look decent, and besides, it was the lightest thing I had brought and even with the sun setting it was sweltering outside. I grabbed a cardigan as an after thought in case it got cool but then I had to hesitate. The sweater was creamy white with little lace buttons and embroidered daisies on the pockets – surely that wasn't appropriate for a party at Buck Merrill's?

"SUSIE!" Soda hollered through the door. "Come on I gotta pee!"

I tossed the sweater back on the sink with a frustrated sigh. I would just have to be cold.

I yanked the door open and glared at Sodapop. "You have got to have the smallest bladder in Tulsa, Soda."

He looked me up and down and did an obvious double take then let out a low whistle of approval. "Look at you all clean and pretty."

I blushed. He was my cousin and a pain in the butt he could be, but I wasn't about to say no to any compliments.

Soda turned and grinned at Two-Bit, who was lounging on the couch. "Whattaya think of your date, Two-Bit?"

I put my hands on my hips. "Well, he's getting me no matter what he thinks, Soda. And he oughtta be glad for my company even if I looked like you."

Soda smirked at me. "Well, sure, but I think he likes that you look like you right now."

I glanced at Two-Bit. He'd sat up straight on the couch and was looking at me a little surprised, his face lightly pink.

"You look real nice," he said slowly.

I waited for the punch line, but he only looked at me some more.

"Thank you?" I said, tentatively.

Soda slipped past me into the bathroom. "You oughtta be flattered, Two-Bit. When she was out with Dally it looked like she'd been rolling in the dirt."

Two-Bit grinned, snapping out of his trance. "Yeah, well, maybe I'll bring her home looking like that."

Soda opened the door and came right back out. "What did you just say, Mathews?"

Two-Bit fell off the couch laughing. "Serves you right for bringing Dally into this, Curtis."

Soda couldn't help grin back. "Hey, she's still my cousin, even if I'm glad she's dating you over Dallas. Just cuz we're buddies don't think I ain't got my eye on you."

"Too bad for your eye," Two-Bit called after Soda. He smiled at me. "You ready to go?"

Buck's was already crowded by the time we got there, even though it was hardly late for a party. The group seemed younger, less wild to me than the times I'd been there before, but Two-Bit assured me they were just a little more sober.

Two-Bit parked the car at an angle and we hopped out and started towards the house, shouldering past the people spilling out onto the porch and front yard. They were talking and laughing and smoking, squeezed close together. I heard people cuss as drinks were spilt, and hollers of recognition, many of them aimed at Two-Bit. The boys hardly seemed to notice me trying to make my way between them and halfway there, Two-Bit turned back to me, and grabbed my hand, helping me through.

He pulled me up onto the porch after him and held the door open, his eyes sparkling. "Didn't lose you to Dallas, ain't gonna lose you to those jackals out there, don't worry," he murmured in my ear.

I felt warmth spreading through me at the protective quality in his voice. I'd listened and agreed to Momma's lectures about how it didn't do to be owing to a man, about how a woman needs to be able to take care of herself, and how destructive it could be to feel owned by a man. For all his faults, I'd never felt like Dallas had tried to control me, and although I'd hated hearing some of the things he'd said, I couldn't help feeling proud that he thought I could hold my own when it came to our conversations. I'd hated the implications of my cousins and Two-Bit over what I couldn't handle, even as I saw the sense in it, so I never thought I would thrill at the idea of a boy protecting me. But this time Two-Bit's hand on my waist didn't feel like a leash.

I put my hand over his, and he glanced back. "Don't worry, I won't let the jackals take _you_, either."

He smirked and opened his mouth, but we were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Mathews, you gonna move or the two of you setting up camp here in the doorway?"

Two-Bit grinned. "Hey Tim, I think your mascara's running. Got something on your nose."

I turned around and almost ran right into Tim Shepard. He had dark bruises under both his eyes, but it only made them look bluer. He looked me up and down appreciatively and I felt my knees go weak. Someone bumped me from the side and I'm sure I would have fallen over if Two-Bit hadn't grabbed my elbow.

Tim glanced at Two-Bit. "First blondie and then this joker? Little Curtis, you got bad taste."

"Hands off, Tim," Two-Bit said cheerfully. "You're too late."

Tim smiled, holding up his hands. "So long as she's not my sister, she's all yours." I couldn't figure out how he could stand right in the thick of things and somehow nobody was running into him. Looking at his strong, scarred hands, I supposed it was for the same reason nobody sat in his chair.

Two-Bit scratched his chin. "Surprised Sylvia ain't using you to bait Dallas tonight," he said, and Tim leaned over and cuffed him in the side of the head, almost playfully. He smelled like soap and cigarettes, exactly like Dallas, although if he got any closer I could have probably smelled his hair oil, too.

"I ain't getting within ten feet of either of them," he said flatly. "I ain't looking to get picked up for a double homicide tonight, and if I hear anymore of that towhead's mouth I'll go crazy."

"You here on gang business then?"

Tim hesitated. "No."

Two-Bit whistled. "Gotta date, huh?"

"None of your business," Tim said shortly. He glanced at me again. "Listen, if I were you, I'd have a talk with ol' Dally. He ain't said anything particularly nasty for him, but he's made a crack or two about how you helped him over Sylvia."

Two-Bit groaned. "He _what_?"

Tim shrugged. "You know him. Got no sense of his own honour, so why should he assume he's doing damage to any one else's?"

"You set him straight?" Two-Bit asked wearily.

Tim's expression suddenly darkened. "I don't know why in the hell everyone thinks I'm that idiot's keeper."

Two-Bit looked at him sideways. "Maybe cuz you're always telling on him," he mumbled quietly, so only I could hear.

"What?"

Two-Bit raised his voice. "I said maybe because he listens to you."

"One time in a million, maybe."

"Better odds than the rest of us. Maybe it's because you can take him?" Two-Bit suggested.

Tim sighed irritably. "Don't suck up, Mathews."

"Okay, then it must be because he likes you."

"If that were true, I'd have to hang myself."

I looked back and forth between the two boys, and suddenly something occurred to me.

"Did the two of you meet in prison?" I piped up and they both started.

"Uh, no," Tim said, looking baffled.

"Think it was Little League, actually," Two-Bit said mildly and Tim shot him an annoyed look.

"Must have been a curse from God for not saying my prayers," he said dryly.

I poked Two-Bit. "I just remembered you warning me away from Mr. Shepard before, telling me he was bad news, but it seems the two of you are pretty good friends, to me, anyway."

Tim gave Two-Bit an amazed look. "This smart-mouth tell you to call me that, too? I ain't Mister anything."

"He told me to call you King Shepard, actually."

Tim cracked a grin, the first real smile I'd seen from him. "Well, okay, that's fine with me, honey."

Two-Bit glared at him. "I think it was King Shit, actually."

"Look, I just wanted to warn you about Winston," Tim said patiently. "You know as good as I do that if I told him to stop talking, he'd only talk louder. But this is the last of the babysitting I do for your gang over Dally. I got a life too, and unless he's got a death wish, it ain't gonna involve that fu- that ass-" Tim looked at me, put his hands on his hips and stared at the sky. "That _moron_."

"Boy, you two must love each other a lot," Two-Bit teased.

Tim sighed. "I hate you so much sometimes, Mathews."

Two-Bit blew him a kiss, then grabbed my hand and hustled me through the door. "Better put some distance between us," he said, laughter in his voice. "Ol' _King Shepard_ likes to play the pussycat around broads, but if you weren't here, I get the feeling he would be breaking his throne over my head about now."

"But I thought you two were friends," I protested.

"Yeah, kinda," Two-Bit said shrugging. "We end up around the same places most of the time, have since we was kids. It makes us friendly, I guess, but you won't find us gossiping on the phone any time soon."

"Well, if you won't even gossip with him, you must not spend _any_ time together," I pointed out and he laughed.

"Forgot how smart-mouthed you could be," he said appreciatively. "Come on, let's go find Dallas and give him what for."

I pulled my hand away from him. "No, thanks."

He looked at me, startled. "Why not? He's talking trash about you, that warrants a beating for sure."

I shook my head stubbornly. "I don't mind seeing the fireworks when Sylvia and him get back together, but I don't want to talk to him up close if I can help it. Why can't we just spend some time you and me together?"

He stared at me. "Well halle-fucking-lujah."

I pushed his shoulder. "Don't swear."

He grinned. "Anything for you, darlin'. Hows about a beer?"

"Coke?"

He gave me a sceptical look. "Well, I'll ask, but you might be outta luck."

I hopped up on a tall chair that was miraculously empty, and watched Two-Bit snake his way through the crowd to the bar. A pretty, harried-looking girl with dark hair was just balling up her apron. I saw Two-Bit lean in close to ask her a question, and she laughed and then waved him towards the kitchen. She tossed the apron on the counter, nodding towards an older barmaid, and then to my surprise, ran right into the arms of Tim Shepard. He gave her a chaste kiss and then led her lickety-split out the door, casting an almost nervous look around the room.

"What are you doing here by your lonesome?"

I jumped, feeling his hot breath against my ear. I'd been so preoccupied with the girl and Tim Shepard that I hadn't even noticed Dallas come up behind me.

"Oh, hi," I said nervously, looking around for Two-Bit. I didn't imagine he'd be thrilled to find me alone with Dallas the second after he'd left.

"Some greeting. How about a kiss?" Dally grinned at me, and I blushed.

"Please, Dallas."

"'Please, Dallas,'" he mimicked. "What happened to that tough little chick swearing at me from her knees in the grass?"

I clutched at the chair and looked away. "I'm here with Two-Bit."

"Yeah? Good for you." He draped an arm around me. "Don't see what that has to do with me."

"I don't think he wants to see you."

He exhaled slowly. "Well, ain't that just my luck. Most important thing in the world to me, what some other guy wants."

I said nothing, and he tapped the side of my face to get me to look at him. When I obliged, he grinned roguishly. "So what do _you_ want, baby?"

I looked up at him angrily. "Why do you do this? I've seen you be plenty decent by yourself, why do you have to go and act like some hoodlum just cuz there are other people around?"

"Who's acting?" he asked lazily. "Just thought you'd be happy to see me. Always have been before now."

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my face from reddening. I was furious with him and myself for getting mixed up with him, and nervous that after all this Two-Bit would come back and see us together and think the worst. I tried another tack. "Your girlfriend attacked me today. Doubt she'd like to see me with you again."

He snorted. "What girlfriend?"

I glared at him, but he only stared back unfazed. I felt a familiar creeping nervousness in my gut. "You know who I mean."

"Yeah, heard she broke Shepard's nose," he said, grinning. He ran a hand over my bruised and scrapped elbow and I shivered. "That where you get all those colours, sweetheart?"

I sat up straight, and tried to look him in the eye. "All but one. But you know that story."

Something flickered in his gaze, and for a second his façade dropped. "Told you not to go blabbing all over town." His grip on my elbow tightened.

"I didn't," I shot back. "I'd have hoped you would return the favour."

He looked confused for a second, but then he smiled. "Oh, you mean about the kissing. Mathews couldn'ta got too bent out of shape if you're here with him now."

I cast a look over my shoulder quickly. "Dallas, please, just leave me alone," I begged.

"You worry too much," he said dismissively, giving me that sly grin. "Say, what did you do to get back on ol' Two-Bit's good side?"

I gasped in anger, struggling to think of something cutting to say back to him. The words wouldn't come.

He laughed at the expression on my face. "Oh, I get it – you want me to guess?" He smirked. "We'll start gentle – you give him a backrub?"

"How did I not see how vile you are before now?" I snarled and his smile dropped.

"Don't know," he said, then after a minute he reached out and fiddled with a strand of my hair, lost in thought. "Never could figure it out."

I stared at him open-mouthed, but before I could say anything, his gaze flicked over my shoulder and he pushed away from me. "Well, there's Prince Charming now. Don't worry, Susie, I won't bother you, no more."

I watched him sway through the crowd, bumping into everyone and everything, and I realized he must have been at least a little drunk. Somehow my anger at him had vanished and I felt almost guilty about pushing him away.

A bottle of coke appeared in front of my eyes, and I looked back quickly to find Two-Bit watching me, one eyebrow raised.

"What he want? To apologize?"

I ignored the sarcasm. "No, he just wanted to make sure you didn't hate me."

Two-Bit snorted. "Still trying to get under that skirt of yours, I'm guessing. No, I won't apologize for that, I didn't say you were letting him, and it's the truth about him, Susie."

"He told me last night he was going to leave me alone for your sake as much as mine," I said, taking a sip of coke. "And then he told me _again_ this morning, and told Darry and Soda the same. I don't see why he's coming after me now."

Two-Bit rested an arm on my shoulder and took a swig from his beer. "Who knows? Just to test you, maybe. Or maybe he's figured out that no one else will have him."

I looked at him seriously. "Well, neither will I."

The sour look dropped off Two-Bit's face and he grinned at me. "Good."

"I just don't understand why he has to act like that," I said softly, and Two-Bit frowned again. "I thought maybe we could be friends, he was being so nice, but just now he was talking so disgustingly, and trying to, well, you know."

Two-Bit watched me for a second, his gaze intense. "Oh, he don't want to succeed, not really."

"That's what I thought," I said miserably. "He just did it to get to you. And to me."

"Naw." There was a few seconds of silence and then finally Two-Bit sighed, resigned. "Dally don't like to be the thing that gets in his own way when he _thinks_ he's up to some crazy bad boy antics. He's set it up real nice so he doesn't have to be his own cockblock, what with you stopping him first, and then Darry, and Soda, and me. Now he doesn't have to face the fact that he knows he just plain ain't good enough for a gal like you. If you were as obliging as you were at first, he'd have nothing but his own thoughts to stop him, and it would seem to me that thinking is his least favourite activity."

I looked at him quickly. "That seems a funny way to go about it, considering. Why doesn't he just act nicer? He could get a nice girl to fall for him if he turned on the charm. Oh, he _could_ I've seen it."

I pushed at Two-Bit's shoulder to stop him from laughing.

"Okay, okay, I guess I believe you? I dunno, I ain't never seen this charm you speak of. Maybe it only appears at the full moon. To virgins. Who posses a heart of gold."

"Two-Bit …"

"And the horn of Gondor."

"Two-Bit!" I couldn't help laughing.

"It wouldn't matter if he did have all the charm in the world, Dallas ain't been ever told he deserves a nice girl. And he's stubborn as a mule, so there ain't no way you could have convinced him." He took a long pull from his beer and added vehemently: "And anyway, he _don't_ deserve one."

I sighed. "Let's just stop talking about him, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed. "But then maybe we oughtta leave, cuz in about twenty seconds, he's all anybody's going to want to talk about."

He nodded towards the doorway and I turned around to see Sylvia enter the room, decked out in one of her more eye-catching ensembles, perfect hair, perfect makeup. Nothing was a surprise, other than the arm of the man she was clutching at.

"Who is she with?" I asked in wonderment. "I thought she wanted Dallas back?"

"Yep," Two-Bit said, raising an eyebrow. "Come on, Susie, you're a girl. Figure it out."

I sighed. "Oh. That's a little mean of her."

"Very," he agreed. "But despite what magical charm you think ol' Dally has, he's pretty mean himself."

Sylvia glided into the room, her hands never leaving the arm of the man she was with. This was no greaser boy, although he was almost certainly from the east side of Tulsa; the man looked to be in his mid-twenties, with dark hair and white teeth and muscles everywhere I could see. I wondered where she could have even met someone like him.

Dallas was nowhere to be seen.

The man sat down at the makeshift bar at the back of the room, motioning to the barmaid with one hand and pulling Sylvia onto his lap with the other. Her girlish giggle travelled the length of the room like a call to arms, but still, no Dallas.

"Maybe she changed her mind," I said to Two-Bit. "I can't see why she would leave a man like that for Dallas."

"No?" His brow furrowed as he studied the man. "I dunno, he seems a little funny to me. Ain't unusual to see a lot of men his age around this bar, not at all, but I'd think the decent ones would try to steer clear of the sixteen-year-old girls."

I cringed. "I guess so. Maybe he don't know. She's wearing a lot of makeup."

He looked at me sideways. "Yeah. Maybe."

We sipped our drinks, our eyes on Sylvia and I could feel us make a silent pact to watch out for her.

She wasn't going to make it easy on us, the way she was leaning into the man, whispering into his ear and stroking his chest. His hand climbed higher, under the hem of her skirt, and I hoped that Two-Bit was wrong about him. I couldn't shake the nervous feeling, no matter how many light-hearted jokes Two-Bit told.

A half-hour later, I'd finished my coke and Two-Bit his beer, and nothing untoward had happened, except that we were awful bored. The room had somehow gotten more crowded, and every attempt at conversation seemed to be thwarted by an inability to hear each other over the country music and sound of people laughing. Two-Bit was leaning into me close enough to be indecent, shouting that maybe we should find some place to grab a burger, when I heard Sylvia scream.

xxxx

**A/N: **Bye-bye Dallas … or not?


	23. Dally's Mighty Fists of Fury

**Chapter 23: Dally's Mighty Fists of Fury**

**A/N: **This isn't really about Dally's fists. Well, maybe a little.

Also, sorry about the skipped week. Some serious family stuff made me MIA in the fandom for a week or two.

Dallas screwed me over awhile back – I totally had this thing planned and plotted and now my ending has disappeared. So, uh, I'm just going to keep writing until a new one presents itself. In any case, I think next chapter is going to be the last. It's probably one too many, but, erm, I couldn't resist this one. Oh yeah, that reminds me:

**Warning: mild, angry!Dallas sexxors.**

Really mild. By my standards anyway.

**Disclaimer: **S.E. Hinton's genius mind came up with these characters. This soap opera crap was my idea, though.

xxxx

It was impressive to me that I could hear Sylvia shriek over the noise of the crowd, but I suppose part of me had been listening for her. Me and Two-Bit looked over at the same time, but she wasn't at the bar anymore. I hopped off the chair and scanned the room frantically, but she wasn't there. I heard a second soft cry, and I thought I could tell it came from the kitchen. I tugged at Two-Bit's hand. "Come on."

He stood still, shaking his head. "It ain't your business, Susie."

I stared at him in disbelief. "He could hurt her!"

He grimaced, but started to follow me. I could read the indecision on his face. "Well, Dallas-"

"Ain't here," I said quickly. "And he might be mad enough not to do anything about it."

Two-Bit sighed. "You seen Shepard? He likes to play hero."

"Two-Bit!"

"Okay, okay," he said, groaning. "You know it's just as likely she's holed up in there with Dallas, right? When did the two of you become such bosom buddies?"

I hurried through the crowd towards the kitchen, Two-Bit hot on my heels, despite the grumbling. Halfway there, we heard screaming and hollering coming from behind the wooden door, and a lanky man in a cowboy hat with five-day-old stubble ran to join us.

"What you wanna bet that has to do with Winston," he mumbled to Two-Bit.

"A million dollars," Two-Bit said, shoving past a few people, real urgency in his step now. "Don't worry, you can pay me in beer, Bucky-boy."

I ignored them and hurried on. A number of people had looked around at the screaming, but so far, no one but us had made a move towards the kitchen. When I pushed through the swinging door, I stopped short and Two-Bit and the cowboy crashed into me.

"What?" Two-Bit stopped talking, taking in the scene in front of me.

Sylvia's date was groaning, lying on the ground with his hands over his stomach, shattered glass all over the linoleum floor. A couple of older girls were pressed against the far wall, whispering to each other, and casting wary looks at the man, and another boy with bleary, drunken-looking eyes was staring open-mouthed in the centre of the room. Sylvia was standing over the man, her sweater half off her shoulders, and next to her, Dallas was wiping his hands on a wet dishrag. Blood was dripping down the side of his face.

"Sylvia!" I gasped, and she looked up at me, frightened, and ran towards me.

I grabbed onto her tightly and we crouched against the wall, staring at the man. Two-Bit walked around the downed man, studying him carefully.

"He made a move on me," Sylvia whispered, and the way she said it, I knew it had been more than just a move.

"Is he dead?" I whispered back stupidly.

Two-Bit glanced back at me, then kicked the man, who let out a groan. "Nope," he said cheerfully. "Sonuvabitch is still alive. Must be feeling merciful today, eh, Dal?"

"Sylvia stopped me," Dally said simply, his eyes narrowed. "But I gave him one in the gut with the bottle he cracked me with. Waste of a good drink."

The cowboy swore and glared at Dally. "Goddamnit, Winston, I don't need the fucking cops down here. You got any idea what kind of shit I'd be in, just for serving _you_?"

One of the women sashayed her way over to him. She had an apron tied around her waist and she hardly batted an eye as she stepped over the groaning man. "He had it coming, Buck. Was trying to muscle that little jailbait over there up the stairs when Mr. Heroic showed up."

Her friend gave Dallas a once over and winked. "You going home with that little blonde, hero, or you want a real woman to show you a good time?" The two women laughed uproariously as Dally grimaced. Beside me, Sylvia stiffened angrily, but miraculously she kept quiet. I'd guessed she was too shook up to be worried, and Dallas didn't look the least bit tempted, anyway.

"What do you say, sugar?" The woman pressed close to Dallas and he took a quick step back, eyes darting almost nervously around the room, to the cowboy, the barmaid, the man on the floor and Two-Bit standing over him.

"No," he said curtly, then hesitated. "Thank you."

Sylvia gave a tiny cough and Dally's gaze finally flickered resentfully over to us. I could almost see him mentally curse.

"Nevermind," the barmaid drawled pulling her friend away from Dallas. She tossed Dally a towel that was slightly cleaner than the one he was holding. He wiped it roughly over a fresh cut on the side of his head, leaving streaks of blood in his blond hair. "Clean up and head home to your momma, boy. Buck and me will deal with Handsy here."

Buck grunted as the man on the ground moaned. "Ain't the first time I throwed you outta here, Gary. You keep clear of them high school kids, I wouldn't have to."

Two-Bit kicked him again and crouched down in front of Gary, grinning maliciously. "Need any help taking out the trash?"

Buck gave him a look. "He's one of my other riders. You can hate all you want, Mathews, but don't touch him."

"He ain't riding for you no more," Dallas said slowly. "Not unless he wants a slow death."

Two-Bit nodded. "I think Sylvia's old man oughtta know about this if he shows his ugly face at the stables again."

Gary groaned again but said nothing.

Dally smiled dangerously and tossed his towel in the sink. "Why don't you let Two-Bit and me take care of him, Buck?"

Buck sighed irritably. "Then I'd lose two men, Gary to an early grave and you to prison for the rest of your goddamned life, if they didn't stick you right on death row." He grabbed Gary around the arms and dragged him across the kitchen towards the backdoor. I could see a small patch of dark blood staining his checked shirt, and then Two-Bit grabbed him by the boots, following Buck.

"Check your chick," he said when Dallas made to follow him. "And watch mine, willya? No funny business. Let me handle this."

"The fuck I will," Dallas started, but Sylvia suddenly pushed out of my grasp and ran to him.

"Dallas, stop it," she said tugging his arm. "That's enough!"

He stared at her. "What do you mean, 'that's enough?' He was hurting you, and I'd say I'm pretty fucking calm, considering."

She shook her head angrily. "I could've handled it. I don't need you following me around."

The two older women exchanged a look and beat it out of there after Buck. The drunk boy had slid down the wall opposite me and was snoring softly on the floor.

Dallas grabbed Sylvia's arms and shook her roughly. "This ain't fair, Sylvia, it ain't. You drop me like a hot brick over some story about me running out on you that I ain't even _done_, then you hook up with Mr. Wonderful out there in front of everyone, and don't you think I didn't know it was just for me! Then I save you – fucking straight up _save_ you, and now you're mad at me all over again?"

Sylvia shook her head stubbornly. "He was my date, Dallas. I expected him to make a move on me. I didn't need you rushing in like that."

I crossed my arms over myself self-consciously, hoping that Two-Bit would be back soon. I knew neither of them had much of a care for their own privacy, but I'd never hated looking in on someone's business more than I did right then. I didn't blame Dallas for shaking Sylvia. I'd been worried enough for her before, but seeing her stubbornly refuse his help now, I was downright frightened for her future.

Dallas dropped his arms looking tired. "We gotta stop this, Sylvia. You gonna get yourself or me killed with your tricks someday."

Sylvia laughed. "Oh, you just love coming to my rescue, Dallas." She glanced at me. "I thought you'd found yourself someone else, anyway."

I felt my cheeks heat up, and Dally swore. He pushed past her, the opposite way from where Two-Bit and Buck had gone. He was halfway through the door to the hallway when he turned back and looked at her. "Well, what the hell was I supposed to do? Wait for you to change your fucking mind again? Have you done it yet?"

He was yelling and tense, anger clearly visible in the way his eyes blazed and his muscles were taut, but I thought I could detect a hint of something else in the way he asked her. Then he was gone, and the room seemed too quiet.

I made my way slowly to Sylvia, and was surprised to find her shaking, tears in her eyes.

"Sylvia, he did good," I said gently, putting an arm around her. "You don't gotta be mad at him no more."

"I know," she said impatiently, brushing the tears away. "I guess I just got spooked."

The door banged behind us and Two-Bit stepped into the kitchen, wiping his hands on his jeans. He looked between me and Sylvia and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Do I want to know what happened to Dally?"

Sylvia made a face. "Oh, he threw a tantrum over something or other. Good riddance to bad rubbish."

Two-Bit stopped short, staring at her. "That 'bad rubbish' that just saved your ass, you mean?"

Sylvia's eyes narrowed and she stepped away from me. "Don't go poking your nose into it. Last I checked, I was his girlfriend, not you Two-Bit Mathews."

"Last _I _checked, Dally didn't have a girlfriend," Two-Bit pointed out.

He ambled over to me and rested his arm against my shoulder and gave Sylvia his trademark friendly smile, but his eyes were cold. Sylvia only stamped her foot petulantly, her eyes darting to the door where Dallas had last disappeared.

"Mind your own damn business, Two-Bit."

"I'd say being Dally's friend makes it my business when he gets himself in a tight spot." Two-Bit smirked. "No matter how much he likes being in said tight spot."

"You can shut your damn foul mouth," she snapped.

"Well, if you weren't such a bitch," Two-Bit said pleasantly.

Sylvia and I both stared at him, but he didn't bat an eye.

"You got some kind of magic hold on Dally, and don't think I don't have an understanding of why he sticks around with you. But that don't mean I like it. You don't deserve him."

Sylvia gave a tiny laugh of disbelief. To my surprise, the insult seemed to restore her confidence. "Oh please. That dirty greaser doesn't deserve _me _and he knows it."

I felt Two-Bit stiffen but before he could respond, Sylvia pushed past us and stomped out the door Dallas had disappeared through minutes before.

"Just cuz he believes that don't make it the truth," Two-Bit yelled at her disappearing back and I jumped.

He swore when she didn't respond and kicked angrily at nothing. I put my hand on his arm but he shook it off, stalking back and forth across the cramped kitchen.

"What's wrong?" I asked bewildered. "Two-Bit, she's right, this ain't got nothing to do with you. And anyway, you badmouth Dallas more'n anyone else. Why are you so angry?"

He glanced at me and his expression softened. "I just hate hearing her say things like that. It ain't Dally's fault he's a greaser, and maybe he ain't a prince, but he just got clocked in the head with a bottle over her – not to mention the shit he's going to have to deal with over work with Buck, fighting with another rider. She ain't got no appreciation for nothing."

I hesitated. Fighting with Dallas and Sylvia over Dallas and Sylvia's relationship was bad enough for me, but fighting with _Two-Bit_ over Dallas and Sylvia's relationship was a headache I didn't want to deal with. Still, fair was fair.

"Two-Bit, Dallas ain't treated Sylvia all that decently, either. Maybe she don't treat him well, but you ain't got cause to judge her more than him."

Two-Bit frowned, but the fire seemed to have gone out of his anger. "Guess I just see it differently. Dally's my pal and she ain't."

"Well, Sylvia's _my_ pal," I said and he gave me a wry grin.

"You know how you said Dallas could act decent, get a nice chick if he tried? Well, it's cuz of people like your _pal_ telling him he ain't nothing but a dirty greaser that he don't even try."

I smiled. "This ain't got anything to do with you and me, do it?"

He looked surprised. "Naw. It's about Dallas."

I gave him a sceptical look. "You seem to be taking it awful personal."

He rolled his eyes, and folded his arms. "Chicks don't get it. But we're buddies, and a shot at Dallas is a shot at me."

I sighed, exasperated. "Except when you're the one taking the shots at him, is that it? Well, fine. You can go ahead and sulk then, I'm going to make sure Sylvia's okay."

I turned on my heel and stalked after Sylvia. The door swung open onto a hallway so tiny, I felt claustrophobic. The only way to go was up, up a set of rickety stairs. I climbed them nervously, well aware that I was heading into dangerous territory, but I could hear Sylvia's heels ahead of me and so onward I went.

I paused at the second landing, hearing her footsteps stop above me on the third floor, and then Dallas' muffled voice, the bite of his anger still clear as day.

"Oh, Christ, what the hell do you want now?"

I heard a stifled gasp and then the muted sounds of a scuffle and, foot that I was, it was enough to get me to hurry up the dark stairs after them once again. Halfway up the stairs I caught sight of them down the hall and I stopped short.

Dallas was pressed up against the side of the hallway, Sylvia right up against him, kissing him rough enough to bruise. His eyes were open, a surprised look in them, and he seemed to squirm against her grip, pushing back towards her. Sylvia finally let up, but as he started to speak, she wrapped her fingers around his, drew his hands up over his head and slammed him backwards into the wall.

"Jesus," he gasped angrily, staring at her wide-eyed. "What the fuck, Syl-"

She covered his mouth quickly with her own, kissing him over and over, open-mouthed and sloppy.

Dally pulled at her grip; his arms were at an awkward angle, and Sylvia was obviously strong, but he was stronger. He started to pull his arms down, but she leaned into him, slipping a leg between his. Dally's fingers went slack and he fairly melted into her.

"Jesus," he groaned again, when she came up for air. He didn't sound angry anymore, but he sure didn't sound happy. "What are you _doing_, Sylvia."

"You love it," she whispered, kissing his neck. "I can feel it."

He flushed and shook his head. "Cut it out. You ain't in charge here. You're the one that up and ran."

"Shut up," she hissed, and pressed her face to his collarbone. Dally yelped and when Sylvia moved I could see she'd bitten him hard enough to leave a mark.

"Bitch!"

"You love this," she insisted.

Dally's eyes narrowed and he pulled out of her grip, staggering away from her, sideways against the hallway wall. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

She tossed her hair and laughed. "Oh, big man," she taunted. "You love it when I'm mean, don't you?"

He paused, taking her in with that calculating look of his. I thought she'd pushed him too far, and any second now he'd swear at her and stalk off again, but all at once he smirked and reached for her.

"Maybe you like it when _I'm_ mean," he growled, pulling her roughly towards him. He kissed her hard and wrapped an arm around her. He pulled her towards a half-open door down the hallway, almost lifting her right off the ground.

She hesitated, but I could see it in the way she pressed up against him that the move was calculated. "Dallas," she said softly, her eyes gleaming, her long lashes fluttering. "Oh, maybe we shouldn't. I've changed my mind."

He laughed and his grip on her tightened. "You and your tricks. You can't go all soft on me now, honey, I know your game."

I turned away from them, feeling slightly sick. I couldn't tell if they were still fighting or if they were making up, but I knew as plain as they both did that they were going to make it to the bedroom just fine. I really didn't want to watch them anymore.

I ran straight down the stairs and back into the kitchen, where Two-Bit was leaning against the wall with his arms folded in exactly the same position he'd been in when I'd left. He raised his eyebrows at me.

"Find what you were looking for?"

I shook my head, disgusted. "I should have known what I'd find."

"Yep."

"Thanks for the warning."

Two-Bit smiled. "Feeling a little jealous?" he asked me, as if he knew every detail of what I'd seen. His tone was neutral but he didn't meet my eyes.

"No," I said emphatically. "I don't understand how they can be so awful to each other and still seem to like it."

He looked at me quickly and smiled again. "It's what they're used to. Neither of them is a romantic type, exactly."

"You didn't see it," I said, wrinkling my nose. "It was-"

"Yeah, pretty gross," he said, and laughed, dropping his arms. "I've seen it before, Dallas gets oblivious to everything and everyone when he's, well, let's call it romantically inspired. Don't care how much of a buddy he is, ain't nobody in their right mind wants to see that."

"I can understand that."

He grinned at me, running a hand through his hair. "I ever tell you about the time he practically tried to bed her in middle of Buck's living room? Shepard, well, you know how he loves to babysit ol'Dally, he dragged him shirtless out the door and locked him outside in the middle of a frost. Let him in an hour later, he picked up right where he left off with Sylvia, didn't even so much as look at Shepard. That's commitment."

"That's stupid."

"That's Dallas, kid."

I smiled, hearing the good humour in his voice. "I'm sure you never get like that."

He grinned, then reached out a hand and pulled me close. "Well, why don't we take a drive on down to the lake and you can find out first hand."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Well, that's forward of you."

He planted a gentle kiss on me that sent tingles travelling up and down my spine. "I'm still a guy, here, Susie. And you're still pretty."

It took us longer to get out of Buck's with his hands wrapped around me, but neither of us minded. The party was swinging, the hoots and hollers at full volume, but I thought a few of the whistles I heard might have been aimed at us.

We were almost to his car when we heard another piercing scream, this time definitely male. Two-Bit glanced back casually and did a double take. I peered over his shoulder, and saw people streaming out of Buck's, surrounding a huddle on the front lawn. A huddle with white-blond hair.

Three stories up, I saw Sylvia slam the window shut.

"What?" I gasped.

"Nothing happened, get in the car, get in the car," Two-Bit chanted, opening my door and pushing at me anxiously.

"Dallas is on the ground!"

"He's fine. He likes the dirt, makes him feel at home. Get in the car. Please?"

"Did she … push him out?" I asked in disbelief, staring at the silhouette in the third floor window.

Two-Bit let out a pitiful groan, stared up at the sky and slammed the car door shut. "Goddamn it, Dallas. Every time."

xxxx

**A/N:** Even when the story goes nowhere, I gotta be mean to Two-Bit. It's out of love.


	24. Take me or leave me actually, TAKE ME

**Chapter 24 – Take me or leave me actually, TAKE ME**

**A/N:** Yeah, it's so not over yet. If I were an editor I'd get rid of this chapter, but I wanted more Dallas/Susie action. It's a TOTAL indulgence, but since it's fanfiction, you get to read it, too. Yay. Yay? Yay!

Also, sorry I didn't post yesterday, and sorry it's so SHORT, but there was a freaking bat in my apartment this week, and it kind of put a stop to me doing anything besides huddling next to the door clutching a frying pan.

**Moar warnings!** I like Dallas when he's sex-brained, he's more controllable and less evil than when he's all angry-face. Anyway, more of him not getting any in this chapter. I swear, he's the only character who I have to write warnings for when he's NOT having sex.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, Susie Hinton's.

xxxx

"This is the last goddamn time I save your ass, I ain't kidding."

"Mathews, it may very well be the first fucking time. You ain't the most reliable of buddies, savvy?"

Two-Bit gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Well, I seem to be pretty reliably interrupted by you these days, _buddy_."

I heard the slosh of liquid as Dallas took a drink from his beer bottle. Two-Bit had dragged him away from the fray and laid him across the back seat of his car in about thirty seconds after the crowd had started forming, swearing a blue streak. At first I didn't understand why Two-Bit didn't just take him inside, but a few people had started laughing when they'd seen Dally hadn't really been hurt, and I chalked it up to some sort of issue of boyish pride.

Dallas had looked pretty stunned, and silent for a change, but aside from a few groans he hadn't looked like much had happened but that he'd had the wind knocked out of him. After a cursory, "Nothin' broken, man?" Two-Bit had tossed him a bottle of beer and slammed his way into the driver's seat. He seemed to be taking the long way home and at the speed he'd picked I wasn't surprised. We'd have been home in ten seconds flat otherwise.

I jumped as something touched my bare shoulder and looked up to see Dallas hanging over the front seat, beer bottle dangling from his fingertips. He stared past me out the front window, the street lights flashing by lighting up his bruised and tired face.

"I'm so sick of this shit, Two-Bit," he said finally. "She pushed me."

Two-Bit grunted. "Yeah, so, what did you do?"

"Nothing man, I swear."

Two-Bit grinned. "I known you since you was in diapers, Winston, I oughtta know your crap by now. I'm calling it."

Dally growled something inaudible. "She wanted it, man. She followed me up there, practically dragged me to the bedroom. I got bruises on my wrists from her wanting me so bad."

Two-Bit chuckled. "Sure."

Dallas yanked up his sleeve and shoved his wrist under Two-Bit's face. "Whattaya call that?"

"Oh, get your girlfriend outta my face, Winston," Two-Bit said irritably, batting Dally's hand away. "I ain't got the time or inclination to sit here and listen to all the sick things you get up. Besides, I got a lady in the car, ain't you noticed?"

Dally sighed and settled into the backseat. "Don't take this the wrong way now," he called warily, "but I can't exactly think of Susie as a lady no more."

Two-Bit and I both stiffened. I suppose I should have been prepared for an attack, but Dallas seemed to wait for the exact moment when I'd figured he forgotten I'd exist to insult me.

"What in the hell do you mean by that?"

"I _said_, don't take it the wrong way," Dally said pointedly. "Don't go getting your panties in a twist, Mathews."

Two-Bit hit the steering wheel. "Well, how am I supposed to take anything you say the right way, Dally? I ain't adding your ps and qs for you, I ain't never been one for spelling."

We passed a car down the highway on the right, and they honked. Two-Bit flipped them off and sped up more. I was sure we weren't going the limit, but he looked too frustrated for me to bother to say anything.

"I only meant I guess I sees her same as I see Sylvia now, except nicer," Dally said patiently, as if that settled the entire matter.

"You ain't going to see nothing outta either eye for a week, you keep talking," Two-Bit said, but his voice was steady.

I twisted in my seat, trying to see Dallas. "And by 'same as Sylvia' what exactly do you mean, Winston?"

Dally choked on his beer and came up laughing. "'_Winston?'_ Well, there you go, proving my point for me."

I could feel the scowl on my face, even as I hoped neither of them could see it in the dark. It certainly didn't _feel_ attractive.

"I mean, I ain't worried about hurting your pretty little ears no more with my rough words."

"Well, you oughtta," I said under my breath, and then I jumped, feeling his fingers trace the back of my neck.

"I ain't so worried about letting you in on my dirty little secrets no more, either," he said softly, his breath tickling my ear. "Not since I found out some of yours." His fingers tangled in my hair and then slid gently down my collarbone on the inside of my dress blouse before I could say anything. I felt my breathing hitch, my skin tingling under his touch.

Two-Bit swerved and Dallas and me were both thrown against the side of the car. I heard a horn blaring and tires squealing, and the world went upside down and flip-flopped before righting itself.

"Nice driving," Dally grunted. "You trying to kill me?"

"Trying to, yeah," Two-Bit snapped. "You going to mess with my girl, maybe do it while I ain't in the same goddamn car as you, Winston. You been with Sylvia not ten minutes ago, too. Jesus Christ, anything that moves is fair game, huh? You must go bonkers around wind-up toys."

Dallas started to retort, but I cut him off. I was tired of these boys talking around me like I didn't exist. "What do you mean, 'your girl?'"

Two-Bit glanced at me, and I could swear he actually blushed, although it was almost too dark to tell. "Only, if you want."

I felt my own cheeks heat up, but I tried to keep it out of my voice. "I guess I do."

Dally clapped slowly and sat back. "Shit. That is fucking a_do_rable."

"Shut it," Two-Bit said grimly. "This ain't about you."

"If it's what you want, Two-Bit and it's what I want, I can't see who else's opinion matters," I said coolly.

"I bet I know what you both really want," Dally said slyly.

My face went flaming at that, but Two-Bit only rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and it's a car without you in it, asshole."

"You sure talk a lot of trash around your _lady_, Mathews."

"Well, so do you and you ain't never explained yourself anyway," I said loudly, interrupting their fight again. I could see Two-Bit was getting angry for real, and his driving was getting worse by the second.

Dally hooked his arm around my seat again, and rubbed a finger across his eyebrow thoughtfully. "Vis a vis you being a lady, you mean."

"You meant you think I'm just a cheap harlot now, don't you?" I said, the bitterness in my voice surprising me.

Two-Bit looked at me quickly, concerned, but Dallas waved at me dismissively. He flopped back into his seat again.

"You know that ain't the truth. Quit trying to make out like I'm such a bastard."

"You do that pretty well yourself," Two-Bit said, and took a turn into our neighbourhood so fast I swear I heard the engine scream.

He slammed on the brakes outside Darry's place, and I got out reluctantly after a second, my stomach still flipping over from the drive. "Call me tomorrow?"

He looked at me and grinned, the anger melting off his face. "You bet."

I walked around the car and leaned in through the window to give him a chaste kiss, but he put both hands on the side of my face and deepened it, his soft lips probing mine. I kissed him back and the car door slammed, making us both jump. Dally raised an eyebrow and leaned against the fence, staring at us. After a few seconds of him not moving, I pulled Two-Bit's hands down, all too aware that Dallas was standing hardly a foot away from me, apparently not intending on giving us any privacy.

Two-Bit glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "Another night on the Curtis' couch? Darry oughtta charge you rent."

"Another night alone?" Dally said mockingly. "Your hand oughtta charge you-"

"Finish that and Tim hears about you taking a tumble, Humpty."

Dally snorted. "That idiot won't be able to look me in the face with his nose cracked from that bitch. You got fuck all on me, Mathews."

Two-Bit was shaking his head, staring out his front window. "You used to be a wiseass, buddy, and that was okay," he said slowly. "But now you really are just a shit." He floored it before Dallas could respond. We could hear the engine roar even after he'd disappeared from view.

I watched him go, feeling uneasy. "I think you really made him mad."

Dally waved a hand in his direction. "He needs to grow up. Shit gets worse the older you get, why not me, too?"

I glanced at him. "You ain't making sense."

"Well, I'm drunk."

I wrinkled my nose at his belligerent tone, and started up towards the house. He stayed immobile, leaning against the fence, and it wasn't until I was halfway inside that he called out to me.

"Hey. Gimme a hand, will ya?"

I looked back and saw he was limping slowly through the gate, both hands clutching the wire fence in a death grip. Whether from drink or the fall he'd taken I couldn't tell, but he didn't look like he was going to be able to make it the five feet from the fence to the porch freewheeling.

I climbed down the stairs reluctantly. Every moment with Dallas was starting to feel like a setup.

He collapsed onto me when I reached him, and I had to put my arm around his waist to keep us both upright. It surprised me that I could support him at all, but up close, he wasn't all that big. From afar he wore his attitude like an extra six inches and fifty pounds, but with my arm around him I could feel his ribs through his t-shirt. He pulled himself upright, inching closer under my grip. I could feel the way the tight flesh of his abdomen stretched with his harsh breathing and I felt energy course wildly through my arms and legs. All of a sudden I was wide-awake.

"Took the fall on my leg," he muttered, and I could smell the whisky and beer on his breath. "Messed it up real good. Messed it all up, real fucking good."

"It'll be okay," I said, just looking for something to cut the tension. His arm around my shoulders felt warm and somehow reassuring, even though he was the one leaning on me.

He grunted. "Used to be, it all worked out somehow. Seems to me it's been just a continual string of worse fuck ups for awhile now, and I figure I got a good twenty years on this liver yet to ride it out. That's a helluva lot more fuck ups."

"You're awfully melodramatic tonight," I said, huffing a little as I heaved him up the stairs. "Guess that's what happens when you're in love."

He let out a laugh so loud I was worried it'd wake the whole neighbourhood, not to mention my cousins. I could have kicked myself for saying something so stupid, but I couldn't seem to think, between trying to drag his dead-weight through the door and feeling the heat of his body press against me. Luckily the whole house was dark and quiet; I doubted my cousins would think much of me stumbling into the living room with a drunk Dallas Winston.

"You such a mouthy little broad," Dally said, still chuckling as I muscled him in through the door. "Can't decide if I like that, but at least it's something different. This whole damn town is the same thing after itself again and again."

"Well, if you're bored, you could always leave," I said, my voice tight with effort. He wasn't helping me much. "Ain't nothing tied you here, is there? And you almost eighteen."

He tipped his head to the side, thinking. "Yeah. But Tulsa is my home."

"Well, then suck it up."

He laughed again, throwing us both off-balance. I grabbed at him desperately, seeing his swaying body head directly for a standing lamp that was going to make all kinds of noise coming down. He grabbed back at me and righted himself at the last minute, and my frantic hands slid easily under his loose shirt, sliding along his skin.

He was standing close enough I heard breath catch.

My head was swimming; I'd been warm all night, all day, maybe since Two-Bit had let me kiss him the first time. I should have let go right away but instead I found myself running my fingertips down his side gently. His body bucked and he gasped a little and the sound of it was loud in my ears. I pulled back quickly, feeling ashamed.

"Oh, boy," he said.

"Sorry," I whispered, my breathing shallow. "I guess you musta hurt your ribs too in the fall."

"Oh, boy," he repeated.

"Think you can get to the couch by yourself? I'm awful tired."

"Oh, boy."

"'Oh, boy,' what?" I snapped.

He groaned. "That was the meanest thing you ever did to another person, and you don't even know it."

I closed my eyes, trying not to figure out what he meant. "Goodnight, Dallas."

"You think he'd be mad if we-"

"_Goodnight_."

I tried to pull away, but he kept his arm around my shoulders. "Now I know you ain't always such a good little girl."

"Well, at least I try to be good, unlike some people," I shot back, twisting out of his grip. He let me go easily, then hooked his fingers around the neck of my shirt as I turned to go.

"Oh hell," he sighed. "It ain't like I don't know what's right and what's wrong, but don't it ever feel to you like you're gonna die if you don't do what's wrong, and fuck all the rest of that noise?"

"Dallas, I don't know what you're talking about," I said, feeling a thrill of fear match the thrill of excitement that seemed to be running endlessly through my body.

"Yes, you do." He groaned again. "Everybody likes to talk like it's easy. Maybe it is for them. But damn."

He suddenly stood up straight and I could see the glint of his teeth as he smirked. "Well, for me, seems like it's always _hard_. You know what I'm saying?"

I pushed him back and he tumbled into the couch, laughing. He flipped over onto his stomach, burying into the couch like a fox into its den. "Alright, already. Goodnight, Susie. You better stay in that room of yours and keep your ears shut."

"Goodnight, Dallas. _You_ better stay on that couch. And I mean it."

I passed by him, warily, and sure enough he reached out an arm in the dark, stopping me. "About before."

His voice was muffled by the couch cushions, but he'd already been slurring from the drink before. I had to lean in to hear him clear enough to understand.

"Didn't mean you're a- a- what did you call it?"

"A harlot."

"Oookay, Webster. Didn't mean to call you a slut. All I meant, Susie, was I'm pretty sure by now you can take care of yourself."

I couldn't help smiling. Coming from him it had to be a compliment.

He peeked up at me from under a cushion and I saw a familiar mischievous look in his eye. "Any chance you could take care of me tonight, too?"

I snorted and pulled my hand away. "That was terrible."

"Worth a shot, I'd say."

"You and Two-Bit oughtta realize that y'all are exactly the same person sometimes."

He yawned and waved me away. "Nah," I heard him mumble as I left the living room. "That slow ass never takes a shot, even when he can't miss. I take all the shots."


End file.
